Allegiance
by Mcfergeson
Summary: Casey Novak finds herself the target of a psychopath. But as the detectives of the SVU dig deeper into this mystery, they find themselves up against a truly frightening foe.
1. Default Chapter

**Author's Note: **I do not own these characters. The Law & Order: SVU characters belong to Dick Wolf. I am not making any money off of this story. Also, this story contains cursing and adult sexual situations that might not be appropriate for children.

**Allegiance: A Law & Order Special Victim's Unit Story**

**By Sean Farrell**

**Chapter One: Intrusion**

Throwing her hands up in infuriation, Detective Olivia Benson stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

"I'm sorry," Casey whispered.

Detective Elliot Stabler was just about to run after Olivia, his partner, when the Assistant District Attorney's comment stopped him cold. It wasn't so much the words themselves that stopped him, but the soul-weary, regretful manner in which they were spoken.

He gazed at Casey Novak, who leaned up against the side of the conference table. They were in the small conference room that adjoined her office. She wore a demoralized expression, with her arms folded tightly in front of her chest. She was an attractive young woman in her late twenties, with shoulder-length blond hair that framed her despondent face. She just had a major row with Olivia over Charles Beauchamp, a college professor who was also a rapist that preyed on the female students at his campus. He was being cut loose because of the lack of evidence needed to indict him. Although Elliot was disappointed, he understood that Casey's hands were tied legally; she had no choice but to let Beauchamp go. Olivia, on the other hand, flew off the handle and got into a heated argument with the district attorney before she stormed out the door.

Casey glanced up at Elliot as he slowly approached her. "I really am sorry, Elliot. Believe me, if there were any other way…."

"You had no choice," he assured her. "None of us do. This Beauchamp bastard really knows how to cover his tracks. Just when we thought we had him cornered, he slips out of our hands…again. But we'll get him. It's just a matter of time, now."

She shook her head. "You know it's not so much the case, Elliot, as it's…."

Casey abruptly glanced down at the floor. It appeared as if she debated within herself whether she should say what she wanted to say next.

He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "Hey. It's me you're talking to, remember? C'mon, what is it?"

"That's just it," Casey told him. "I could always talk to you. You've always made yourself available to me for talks and to give me advice and whatnot. I've never felt that way with Olivia. I known that when I first joined the SVU, I've had to earn all your trust, and I feel that I've done that with you."

"You have," Elliot confirmed.

"Not with Olivia," Casey added. "I mean, she's always been polite and courteous with me, but I've never felt as comfortable around her like I do with you, or Munch, or Fin. I never feel like Olivia ever really lets me in all the way. And now, thanks to this case, it looks like she really hates me."

"Olivia doesn't hate you."

"Really?" Casey said sarcastically. "If that's how she shows affection, then I'd really hate to get on her bad side."

Elliot chuckled slightly. Still, it wasn't hard for him to see her point. Although she had always been polite in their professional relationship, Olivia wasn't as close to Casey as she had been with Alex Cabot, their old ADA. While she and Cabot had been the best of friends, almost like sisters, Olivia's relationship with Casey had always been frosty, at best. It was a tense situation that had been brought to a head by this blow up. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'll tell you what, I'll talk to her."

Casey waved her hands at him. "Oh no, never mind! You know what, Elliot? It's getting late; it's been a long, aggravating day for all of us. So why don't we just forget what I've said, ok? It was just my fatigue talking."

Elliot started shaking his head. "Casey…"

"No, really. Maybe I should just accept the situation for what it is and move on."

"Then it will never be resolved," Elliot said, as he stared out the window. He frowned when he saw a man on the roof of the office building across the street. The man appeared to be slumped over the edge of the building, as if he were unconscious.

"What is it?" Casey asked.

"I don't know," Elliot said, still staring out the window. "It's this guy…."

Elliot's eyes grew wide with alarm when he saw that the man wasn't slumped over the edge of the building, he was hunched down, and he held a rifle in his hands.

And the rifle was aimed right at this window.

"GET DOWN!" Elliot shouted, as he grabbed Casey.

Just as they hit the floor, the entire conference room appeared to explode all around them.

**TwoMinutes Earlier**

'God damn it!' Olivia heatedly thought, as she stalked down the hallway towards the elevators. It was bad enough watching a case go down in flames in court, but it was always worse when it was a case that involved a young child like this one. And then there was Casey, who practically threw her hands up in surrender. Olivia had wanted to go a few rounds with Linda Beauchamp, the raping bastard's lying wife. Linda was obviously covering for her scumbag husband, and Olivia knew she could prove it if she could just get a chance to wear Linda down after a few hours in the interrogation room at the One-Six. But Casey had steadfastly nixed that idea, saying that they had nothing to bring Linda in on.

"Besides," Casey had added, "I'm not convinced Linda Beauchamp was involved, anyway."

Olivia shook her head in disgust as she waited for the elevator. How could Charles Beauchamp have stalked and raped those poor girls without his wife not knowing about it? 'This is just what we need, Casey acting like a frigging armchair detective!'

She couldn't get the face of young Lilly Beauchamp out of her mind. If there was truly an innocent victim in all of this, it was she. It took days for Olivia to earn the nine-year-old girl's trust, and now—after Olivia had assured Lilly that no harm would ever come to her—Lilly would have to go back and live in the same house with that monster of a stepfather. 'We spent weeks to build a case against Beauchamp, and all of our hard work and effort is now for naught,' Olivia thought, 'and this sick bastard walks away completely free and in the clear.'

"What's the frigging point?" she whispered at the closed elevator doors.

"Uh, you mean the elevator?" a man's voice asked.

Olivia glanced to her right and saw a man in his forties standing with a woman by the elevator doors. The man, clad in a suit with dark curly hair that was graying slightly on the sides, gestured at the elevator. "I couldn't help but overhear you asking what was the point," he said, speaking in a slightly hesitant, stuttering manner. "I was just wondering if you were referring to the elevator. Because, if that's the case, you could always take the steps."

"Oh," Olivia muttered. "No, I was just thinking aloud."

"Having a rough day?" the woman sympathetically asked. She was smartly clad in dark dress jeans with a blazer. Her sandy brown hair was shoulder-length.

"Yeah, you could say—" Before Olivia could finish, she was interrupted by a series of deafening shattering noises. Olivia had been a cop long enough to know the sound of gunfire when she heard it, and she automatically pulled her nine from its holster on her hip. She did a double take when she saw the man and woman also pull guns from their respective hip holsters, as well. "I'm Benson, SVU."

"I'm Goren," the man said, "and this is my partner, Eames. Major Case Squad."

"A pleasure," Olivia quickly said, as they all ran down the corridor. They checked each of the offices—most of the doors were open, so it was a simple matter of glancing inside—until they came to the office at the end.

It was Casey's office. The door was closed.

'Please don't let this be the one,' Olivia thought, as she gripped the handle.

When she threw the door open, Olivia was stunned at the blast of cold air that struck her in the face. It came from the gaping hole in the wall where the window used to be in the conference room. Shattered glass lay all over the table, which looked as if it had been ripped up by a large, angry animal. She could not see Elliot or Casey anywhere.

"EL! CASEY!" Olivia cried.

"We're here, Liv," Elliot said. He sounded like he was behind the filing cabinet on the other side of the room. "We're all right."

Olivia went to run to him when a hand grabbed her shoulder. It was Goren. He pointed at the window and said, "You go to them, and you'll be putting yourself in the line of fire of the shooter."

"He's right, Liv, stay away from the window!" Elliot said.

"Stay down, El," Olivia said, as she started towards them. When Goren grabbed her a second time, Olivia wrangled herself out of his grasp and then angrily glared at him. "Do that again," she warned, "and you'll draw back a stump."

"Just be careful," he told her.

Olivia curtly nodded at him as she moved over to the window by sliding alongside the wall. Goren followed behind her while Eames remained in the doorway and called in the shooting on her police dispatch radio.

Once she stood right next to the blasted-out window, Olivia pulled out a palm-sized mirror from a pocket of her leather jacket. She cautiously held out her hand, looking outside through the reflection in the mirror.

"El, did you see the shooter?" Olivia called out.

"Yeah," Elliot replied. "He was on the building directly across the street, on the roof by the corner. We just barely had time to duck before he started shooting."

Olivia adjusted the mirror to scan the roof. "Don't see anybody now," she said. "But that doesn't mean he's not still there."

"Ambulance is on the way," Eames called out, as she put away her dispatch radio. "And we've already got uniforms storming the building over there. They should be hitting the roof any second now."

Holstering her gun, Olivia handed the mirror to Goren. She then got down on her hands and knees and crawled underneath the window. Although she was never a big fan of war movies, Olivia felt like she was in one as she crawled through the broken glass and assorted debris. She kept going until she reached Elliot and Casey. Pressed up against the side of the filing cabinet, they were tightly huddled together.

Elliot nodded at her, while Casey looked as if she were on the verge of a full-blown panic. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she clung to Elliot as though he were a life preserver. Normally very fair skinned, Casey now appeared as white as a ghost—with the exception of the bits of blood on the side of her face.

"Either of you hit?" Olivia asked.

"Nah," Elliot said.

When Casey instinctively brushed away a strand of hair, she felt the blood on the side of her face. "Oh God, oh my God," she cried, as she stared in horror at the blood on her hand. "I'm hit! I've been shot! Elliot, I've been shot! I'm shot!"

Elliot grabbed the hysterical young woman by her shoulders and stared right into her face. "Casey! Casey, look at me. Look at me! You haven't been shot. You were hit with the flying debris, that's all. You're gonna have to go to the hospital and get patched up, but you'll be just fine, I swear. Ok? Ok?"

"All right," she said, nodding. Then she began shaking violently. "Oh, my God, Elliot! Oh my God!"

"Easy, easy," he soothed, as she buried her face into his shoulder and began to sob uncontrollably.

Olivia's cell phone picked this time to start ringing. When she pulled it out and answered, Captain Cragen, her commanding officer, said, "Liv, I'm just calling to see what's happening with the Beauchamp case. How's it going?"

"Cap, listen to me: a sniper fired on Casey's office."

After she filled him in on all the details so far, Cragen tersely said, "I'm on my way."

"Cragen's coming over here," Olivia said, after she ended the call.

Just then Olivia's dispatch radio squawked. "The roof is secure," a male voice announced. "I say again: the roof is secure."

Olivia warily stood up and gazed out the blasted-out window, just as Goren and Eames also cautiously peered out from around the side. Olivia saw several uniformed officers waving 'all clear' to them from the rooftop of the adjacent building.

"It's ok," she confirmed to Elliot and Casey. "It's clear."

A dazed Casey allowed Elliot to help her to her feet, but she would not let go of him. Olivia gazed at Casey with sadness. She inwardly cringed when she recalled their argument just a few minutes ago. 'Oh Christ, I said so many horrible things to her!'

"Benson," Eames called to her from the doorway. "We're heading over there now. You coming?"

"You go ahead, Liv," Elliot told her. "I'm staying with Casey."

Olivia nodded. She wanted nothing more than to apologize to Casey for her behavior earlier. But with everyone watching, it felt awkward to do so right now. All Olivia could manage was to gently pat Casey's shoulder. Casey, still rattled, glanced up and gave her a dazed nod.

"I'll see you both later," Olivia told them as she left with Goren and Eames.

As they rode down in the elevator, Eames turned to her partner and said, "Hey, aren't you forgetting something?"

Goren frowned at her. "What? No, I…oh." He realized that he still held Olivia's mirror in the palm of his hand. He gave it back to her. "Sorry. And thanks."

"You'd forget your head if it wasn't attached to your shoulders," Eames jokingly said.

"That's true," Goren agreed sheepishly.

Placing the mirror back in her jacket pocket, Olivia ignored their banter as she wearily leaned up against the wall of the elevator. She took out her detective's badge and clipped it onto the lapel of her jacket. She then checked a pocket of her jacket and made sure she had a fresh pair of latex gloves for the crime scene. Although these may appear to be simple tasks, for Olivia, at this moment, they were akin to strapping on armor.

In her mind's eye, she relived the horrifying moment, over a year ago, when her lover Alex Cabot had been shot down right before her eyes. And then, no less than a few months ago, she witnessed Fin, her friend and fellow SVU detective, get gunned down in a bodega. And when Alex emerged from the Witness Protection Program a few weeks ago, Olivia had been on the receiving end of gunfire while escorting a witness—a young boy—to court. And now Elliot and Casey had just been shot at. 'I'm tired of watching the people whom I care about being treated like targets at a shooting gallery,' she thought with a seething rage. 'I'll get this bastard. And when I do, I'm gonna shove the goddamn bullets he shot at El and Casey right down his frigging throat!'

**To be continued...**


	2. Convergence

**Author's Note: **My thanks to all of you who took the time to review the first chapter. I really appreciate the feedback, please keep it coming.

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Two: Convergence**

Captain Donald Cragen, the commander of the Manhattan division of the Special Victim's Unit, strode onto the rooftop of the office building where the sniper shot at Casey's office. As he expected, the area was swarming with cops and Crime Scene Unit technicians. Cragen, a veteran police officer for more years than he cared to count, nodded his greetings at various friends and acquaintances as he walked past the collection of NYPD personnel who investigated the crime scene.

Captain Judith Siper of the Crime Scene Unit smiled wearily at him. She was a middle-aged woman with black hair, whowore a dark blue jacket with the letters CSU emblazoned on it. "Hey, Don."

"Judith. You get anything?"

"The sniper left the gun," Siper replied. "An AR-15. No prints, and the serial numbers have been filed off." She gave him an uneasy glance. "If you're looking for Detective Benson, she's over by the skylight. The Major Case Squad is here, and she had a run-in with their captain."

"I take it that the MCS detectives are the primaries?" Cragen asked.

Siper nodded, still looking uneasy. "Detective Benson wasn't trying to horn in or anything, and she was still respectful to his rank. But the MCS Captain still cut her down pretty harshly, right in front of everybody, I might add."

Cragen, who was already worked up over the shooting, now felt a renewed flash of anger surge from within. "Ok, thanks Judith. I'll talk to you later."

"I've got no other plans for today," she said with a sigh.

As Cragen walked over to Olivia, he realized that it was understandable for the MCS to take over the case. After all, a sniper attack on an assistant district attorney was not a sex crime; therefore, the SUV had no real jurisdiction here. Still, as the full time ADA for the SVU, Casey Novak was considered a member of the squad, and any attack on her was an attack on the SVU itself. And the SVU always took care of it's own.

Detective Olivia Benson stood pensively by the side of the skylight, with her hands on her hips. Clad in jeans with a slate gray top and a dark brown leather jacket with her badge clipped to the lapel, she was a lean, angular figure with a mane of chestnut colored hair that flowed down the nape of her neck. As he approached her, Cragen marveled at the change in Olivia over the past six years she worked with the SVU. When she first started, Olivia was such a green rookie detective that he was almost tempted to kick her off the squad. Since then, she had matured into one of his best detectives, with an impressive arrest record that most cops would trade their mothers for.

When she glanced up at him, Olivia looked both relieved and royally ticked off. Cragen understood how she felt.

"Munch and Fin are out working a homicide right now," he told her, "but I called Fin and let him know what's going on. I saw Casey right before the ambulance took her off to the hospital. Other than some scratches, she's all right, physically. But she's a wreck emotionally." Cragen let out a deep exhale as he recalled the shell-shocked look Casey had. The poor woman could barely speak. "Elliot went with her to the hospital. He said he'd call later."

"At least Elliot's getting more done than I am. The captain of the Major Case Squad has pretty much told me to butt out," she said heatedly. "He told me that my 'offer to help' was appreciated, but not needed at the present time."

"So I've heard. Where's the MCS captain now?"

"Over there," Olivia nodded at the group by the edge of the roof, "with Goren, his little savant golden boy."

"C'mon," Cragen said to Olivia. "Let's see if we can't iron this out."

Cragen identified the Major Case Squad commander even before he approached the group. He was a tall man in his fifties with a full head of graying hair. He stood near the sniper's weapon with another man who gestured wildly as he spoke—that was no doubt Goren. A female detective, who watched Cragen and Olivia as they strode up to them, leaned over to her captain and whispered a warning of their approach.

"Captain Donald Cragen," he introduced himself to the group. "Special Victim's Unit."

The MCS commander held out his hand. "Captain James Deakins, Major Case Squad." He gestured to the man and woman whom he stood next to. "These are my detectives, Robert Goren and Alex Eames."

Cragen nodded at them. "You already met my detective, Olivia Benson?"

Deakins' faint smile vanished as he shot Olivia a murderous look. "Yes," he said brusquely, "we've met."

'Apparently Olivia made quite an impression on you!' Cragen thought with amusement. "Captain, I've been told that the SVU hasn't been invited to this party. I'd like to know why."

"Well, as I explained to your Detective Benson, this incident obviously doesn't fall within your jurisdiction. Besides, my detectives were first on the scene, so that makes them the primaries in the investigation."

"You're forgetting, Captain, that Detective Benson was with Goren and Eames on the scene. And that another of my detectives, Elliot Stabler, was with ADA Casey when her office was fired on. Now, I realize that this is out of our jurisdiction, but we are already involved. Look, I'm not asking you to give us the case; you can still be the primaries. I'd simply like for my squad to be included in the investigation, that's all."

"Rest assured, Captain Cragen, we will interview Detective Stabler when the time is right, and I plan to keep you fully apprised of our investigation as it progresses," Deakins said with a polite smile.

'He's treating Elliot like a crime scene witness,' Cragen realized. 'And I've just been given the brush off.'

Standing just behind Deakins, Eames and Goren appeared very uncomfortable. Then Goren abruptly shook his head in distain and muttered, "We should all just be working together on this, Eames. This is just ridiculous…."

Eames held her hand up, as if to placate him, yet Goren—still irritated—turned his back on all of them and focused his attention on the weapon the sniper left behind. Deakins ignored Goren's outburst, and continued to stare coolly at Cragen; it was almost as if he were daring Cragen to put up a fight.

It took but a spilt second for Cragen to weigh his options, and he discovered that he had none—at least not officially. 'But if you can't go over a mountain,' he thought, 'you can always go around it.'

"Very well, Captain Deakins," he said with his best cheerful façade. "Thank you."

Deakins' small smile became a large grin. "Thank you for your understanding, Captain Cragen."

As they walked back by the skylight, Olivia had a disgusted look on her face. Cragen gently placed his hand on her shoulder and said, "Let's go see what we can find out about this sniper, shall we?"

Olivia gave him a puzzled look. "But I thought Captain Deakins said—"

"I know what Deakins said," Cragen calmly told her. "And to hell with him. Somebody opened fire on two of my kids today, Olivia. That really pisses me off. And when I get pissed off, I want to do something about it. So, let's start working the crime scene."

Olivia smiled as she pulled out her notepad. "With pleasure, Cap."

**Jeanne Lu's Apartment. 233 Anders Street. Thursday, April 28**

"Cragen did say Casey was ok?" Detective John Munch asked for the second time.

"As well as can be expected, considering she survived a sniper attack," his partner, Odafin "Fin" Tutuola replied. They stood in the foyer of an apartment that belonged to a young woman named Jeanne Lu who had been murdered within the last two days. The coroner and CSU techs were busy working the crime scene inside. Yet the body in the other room was the last thing on their minds at this moment.

"Yeah, but, Cragen said she was injured—"

"Cuts and abrasions from the flying glass," Fin assured him. "I mean, that ain't no picnic, but at least she wasn't shot by the sniper, right? Elliot saw the bastard just before he fired and got Casey under cover in time."

Munch shook his head in disbelief. A tall, lean man with graying hair, he favored dark suits with tinted glasses—this was a look that gave him the appearance of a mafia hit man, rather than the veteran detective that he actually was. He was also a major conspiracy buff who normally liked to ramble about his pet theories to anyone who would listen. But now all he was concerned about was Casey. "This is insane," Munch whispered.

"No argument here," Fin agreed.

"This is now the second time that somebody went gunning for one of our ADAs," Munch said with disgust. "I'd like to know since when was there an open season declared on ADAs attached to the SVU?"

"ADAs make enemies just like cops do, John," Fin said. "It's part of the risk of their job."

Medical Examiner Melinda Warner stuck her head into the hallway and eagerly said, "I got something, Detectives."

Although somewhat reluctant to do so, Fin pushed his concern for Casey to the back of his mind, as he and Munch entered the bedroom. He shook his head in sadness once again at the body of the young woman that was slumped up against the wall. Jeanne Lu couldn't have been anymore than early to mid twenties. She was nude, with a bullet hole in the back of her head. Pieces of duct tape still clung to her ankles and one of her wrists; they surmised that she had been bound hand and foot in the bedroom when she had somehow freed herself of her bonds. Jeanne tried to make a run for the door when the perp shot her dead.

Their initial theory was that Jeanne picked up the perp someplace and brought him home—never knowing until it was too late who and what he really was. He had stripped her of her clothing before he bound her with the tape. The fact that she was nude was what made the uniformed officers who first responded to the scene call in the SVU.

"Look at this," Warner said, as she used a pen to point out a mark on the woman's neck.

Both Fin and Munch leaned over the body to examine what appeared to be a puncture in the side of the deceased's neck.

Munch asked, "Is that from a needle?"

Warner nodded. "I'll know more once I get her back to the lab, but it looks like she was injected with something, probably some kind of a tranquilizer."

"The perp injected her with something that knocked her out," Munch said to Fin, as they stood up again. "Thus making it easier for him to strip her and tie her up."

"Leaving her completely defenseless for him to play his perverted little games," Fin said with revulsion. "But he didn't count on her freeing herself, and then he had no choice but to shoot her before she could run out the door. Sick bastard."

"One of many who are wandering the city streets today," Munch said, in reference to the attack on Casey.

"Is there any more news about Casey?" Warner asked, concerned.

"Nah, nothing since Cragen called," Fin replied.

Ron Sanchez, a CSU tech, came into the room. "Detectives? There's something here you should see."

He led them to a closet in the hallway, where he picked up a back metallic case and held it open. Inside was heavy foam lining, with a large empty space in the foam that made up the outline for parts of a gun. The foam in the opposite side of the case had openings for four ammo clips, with only two clips present and accounted for.

"It's a case for a gun," Sanchez said. "Specifically, for an AR-15."

"That's the civilian version of the M-16 assault rifle," Munch said.

"Pretty hard core piece," Fin muttered. To Sanchez he added, "Did you find the gun?"

"I haven't." Sanchez glanced at two of his colleagues who were presently turning the living room upside-down. "You guys find the gun, yet?"

The CSU techs, a man and a woman, both looked up from their search and gave Sanchez a response in the negative.

"Yo, Larry," Sanchez called down the hallway, "you find anything, yet?"

Larry stuck his bald head into the hallway and said, "Nada. No joy whatsoever."

"We'll keep looking," Sanchez told the detectives. "But if we haven't found a gun like this here by now, we probably never will."

"You could break a gun like that up for easy transport, then reassemble it for shooting," Fin said thoughtfully. "But why the hell would somebody like Jeanne have an AR-15 lying around her apartment? It had to have belonged to the perp."

Fin frowned when he saw Munch abruptly lean back up against the wall, as if for support. "You all right, John?"

"I just had a very scary thought," Munch said.

"That's nothing new for you," Fin replied.

"Just try this on for size," Munch said. "We find an empty gun case for an AR-15 here in this apartment, on the very same day that a certain ADA's office—which is just a few blocks away from here—gets hit by a sniper."

"Oh, whoa…" Fin muttered, as a chill ran up his spine. "You don't think…."

Sanchez held up the gun case and pointed to an empty slot in the foam. "See this? It's for a telescopic sight."

"Oh, man," Fin exclaimed, shaking his head.

Munch pulled out his cell phone. "Before we run any further with this little theory, I want to see if they know what type of gun was used."

Dr. Warner entered the hallway with a perplexed look on her face. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Fin held up a hand and said, "We'll know for sure in a second, Doc."

"Liv?" Munch said into his cell. "Yeah, it's me. Listen, do you know what type of gun the sniper used?" Munch nodded. Then hestared right at Fin and said, "The sniper left the gun behind at the scene, and it is indeed an AR-15."

"Sweet Mary, mother of God!" Sanchez said excitedly. "We gotta get our hands on that baby! I'll run some firing tests with it and see if the bullets match those that were shot here and at the ADA's office! That's the only way we can be sure!"

"Liv, you know the murder that Fin and I are working?" Munch said into the phone. "Yeah, we definitely think it's connected to the sniper. Is Cragen with you?"

Fin felt a tap on his shoulder. When he turned, Dr. Warner glared at him, looking as if she was ready to burst. "Fin, for crying out loud, what is it?"

He pulled her into the living room, away from the keyed up chatter of Munch and the CSU techs, who were all having several different conversations about the same subject at the same time. "We just got a major break: apparently, it looks like the bastard who killed Jeanne Lu, and the sniper who fired on Casey's office, are one and the same person."

Warner's only response to that was a stunned expression on her face.

Fin could empathize, for he knew exactly how she felt.

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Any Port In A Storm

**Author's Note:** My thanks to the people who took the time to write reviews of this story. As always, I appreciate them.

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Three: Any Port In A Storm**

Casey was wrapped in the strong but tender embrace of Elliot, her hero, and her protector. She felt so warm and safe; Casey treasured every moment of simply being in his presence. Yet even while she basked in his brilliant radiance, there was something pestering at her. Casey wasn't sure what it was, but as she remained secure in Elliot's arms, something diverted her attention, forcing her to glance over her shoulder.

She looked up and saw the window in her office. It was dark outside. But Casey thought it was strange how the darkness outside the window was a complete and utter blackness. Thanks to the streetlights and illuminated buildings, it was never truly dark in New York City at night. And yet it was so black beyond her windows that it looked as if someone had draped an obsidian curtain in front of the glass.

And then Casey was startled when the window in her office exploded in a shower of broken glass. And the cold, foul blackness that was once outside was now in her office, reaching for her with huge, claw-like hands. When one of the claws, with its razor-sharp talons, came right at her face, Casey let out a—

—horrified cry, but Elliot was there, and he held her hands firmly as he said, "Easy, easy! You're all right. Casey, you're all right, now."

'A dream, it was just a bad dream,' Casey thought, as she stared in disbelief at him. 'But what the hell's Elliot doing in my apartment?'

Then Casey got a good look at her surroundings, and saw that she was not home, but in a hospital room. And it all came flooding back to her like an ominous dark tide. "Oh God," she dismally whispered. "It really happened, didn't it?"

"Afraid so," Elliot said compassionately. He released her hands and leaned against the railing of the hospital bed. "How are you feeling?"

Casey delicately touched the bandages on the side of her forehead. The wound underneath still felt sore.

"You had some glass fragments embedded in there," Elliot gently told her. "But they got it all out. They want to keep you here overnight, just for observation."

Her mind flashed back to the moment in her office when Elliot tackled her to the floor. She recalled wondering at that time if he had gone insane, until the windows exploded. She reached out and firmly gripped his hand. "You saved my life! Thank you! I also should apologize," Casey added with a gasp, her face growing red with embarrassment. "I really freaked out on you there, didn't I?"

"Casey, no, don't worry about it," Elliot told her. "Really."

She nodded, still feeling stunned at how her world had literally been torn apart in an instant. Elliot leaned against the side of the bed with his hands clasped together. A trim, muscular man in his mid-forties, he had his dark brown hair cut almost crew cut short. Casey also noted that Elliot had stripped off his suit jacket and tie. She saw dried blood splatter on his shirt and realized with horror that it was her blood. She had bled on the very same man whom she had spent the last few weeks working up the nerve to ask out for a date.

'Not very romantic, Casey,' she thought ruefully.

"You sure you're ok?" Elliot asked her.

'I'm lying here, completely naked—save for a flimsy hospital gown—underneath these bed sheets, and the man whom I have a major crush on is barely a foot away from me,' Casey thought, 'but other than that, I'm doing just fine, thanks!'

"Yes, thanks to you," she replied. "Do you know who it was who shot at me?"

"No we don't. But we have a lead, a damn good one. In fact, if you're up to it, there's something we'd like to ask you regarding the sniper."

"Go right ahead," Casey said.

"I don't have the photo," Elliot muttered, almost to himself, as he stood up. "Cragen and everybody else are outside. They're real anxious to see you, anyway. Would it be ok if…?"

"Bring 'em on in," Casey said, despite the fact that the last thing she wanted to deal with right now was a roomful of people. She steeled herself as Elliot came back with Cragen, Munch, Fin and Olivia.

"How are you, Casey?" Cragen asked, as they all circled around her bed.

"Better, thanks, Don," Casey replied. "But if you're here because you want me to get you a warrant, you're shit out of luck, 'cause I'm taking the night off."

They all laughed uproariously at that—all except Cragen, who had a small smile on his face. He seemed to understand that she was just putting up a brave face for all of them. He merely nodded with fatherly satisfaction at her.

"You up to answering some questions?" Cragen asked.

"As I said to Elliot, go right ahead." Casey frowned. "I have to admit that I'm surprised you guys caught this case. I mean it's not a sex crime."

"Yeah, we tangled with the Major Case Squad over this one at first," Cragen said. "But that was before we caught a rape/murder. This one." Cragen gave her a photograph of a young Asian woman, early twenties, with black hair and a broad smile. She appeared to be on vacation somewhere, for there was a beach behind her and she was clad in a bikini top. "Have you ever seen this woman before?"

Casey shook her head. "No, I don't recognize her."

"Her name's Jeanne Lu," Cragen said. "She was murdered two days ago…apparently by the same man who shot at you today."

"CSU found a carrying case for an AR-15 at the dead woman's home," Fin said.

"Which is the exact same type of weapon used in your attempted shooting," Olivia added. "The sniper left it behind. CSU tested it, and the ballistics match perfectly."

"Did the sniper also shoot at Jeanne Lu from a distance?" Casey asked.

"No," Munch said. "It basically looks like she just picked this guy up and brought him back home for a roll in the hay, when he turned nasty on her. He injected her with a tranquilizer, removed her clothes and bound her with duct tape. The problem for our boy was, she woke up, got herself free, and tried to make a run for it, forcing him to shoot her before playtime was over."

"What about the rifle case that he left at her house," Casey said. "Get any prints off that?"

"It's perfectly clean," Olivia glumly replied. "As is the gun, no prints on that, either."

"Are we sure Jeanne Lu had no connection with this guy other than a one night stand gone wrong?" Elliot asked.

"Jeanne Lu worked as a secretary for an electronics firm over on Broadway," Fin said. "When Munch and I canvassed her family and friends, there was nothing to suggest that she hung out with gangs, or the like. She led a regular nine to five existence."

Olivia shook her head thoughtfully. "So we're dealing with a contract killer who kills women before a hit as a way of working up his—" Olivia stopped herself, as her eyes grew very wide. "Casey, I'm so sorry! It's just that I'm so used to talking over a case with you that I completely forgot…."

"That I'm the victim this time," Casey finished in a somber whisper. Her stomach had shrunk into a cold, tight knot as she gazed down at her hands, which were clasped firmly together before her. "It's all right. Um, I don't know why this is happening to me," she said, her voice flooding with emotion. "I-I mean, all of my cases for the past two years have been exclusively with the SVU, and…and…I can't imagine who would…want to…."

No longer able to view any of this objectively, Casey placed her head in her hands and let out a heavy sigh in an effort to keep from crying. When she felt a hand gently touch her right shoulder, for a spilt second she hopefully thought it was Elliot—until she realized that he was on her left. She glanced up to see that it was Cragen who comforted her.

"It's going to be all right," he said resolutely. "The Major Case Squad is looking into all of your prior cases to see who might have a grudge against you, and we're chasing down some solid leads on our end. We're going to get this bastard, Casey. Until then you'll be in protective custody. There will be a uniformed guard outside your room here all the time, and we'll make the further arrangements needed once you're released tomorrow. But for now, why don't we let you get some rest?"

Casey abruptly felt bone-tired once more, and nodded her agreement. After saying their goodbyes, the SVU team all left her room, save for Elliot, who hung back and asked, "Do you want me to stay?"

He looked as exhausted as Casey felt. And as much as she wanted him to remain with her, to hold her, to simply comfort her with his presence, Casey realized it would be selfish of her to ask. "You get some rest too," she told him. "And get out of that shirt."

Elliot glanced down at the bloodstains on his shirt as if seeing them for the first time. He put on his suit jacket with an uneasy air, and then he said, "You'll be all right?"

"I'll be fine," Casey assured him, trying to put as much courage in her voice as she could dredge up.

"You need anything, anything at all, I'm just a phone call away," Elliot said, as he strode towards the door. "I mean it, call me day or night."

Casey flashed him a broad smile as he left. Then once she was alone in the hospital room, her smile faded. Casey then rolled over on her side and began to cry softly.

**NYPD Safe House. Undisclosed Location. Friday, April 24.**

Munch stood by the door and watched as Casey entered the safe house and glanced around at her surroundings. The place was on the top floor of an old apartment building, and judging from the dust covering the furniture, it had not been used in a while. Taking off her windbreaker, Casey was casually dressed in jeans and a sweater, with her hair pulled back from her face into a ponytail. Casey still wore bandages over the wounds on the side of her face.

Yet even with the bandages, even dressed down as she was, Munch still thought she looked gorgeous. Casey radiated an inner beauty that Munch had always admired from afar. And standing here, alone with her in this apartment, felt a little overwhelming for him. Still, he was a professional, and as such, Munch had to push whatever private feelings he had for Casey aside so that he could perform his duty, which was to protect her.

She slowly walked around the living room of the safe house, idly brushing dust off of the coffee table. Casey glanced at him and said, "You know, I've hidden plenty of witnesses here, but I've never expected that I'd be using it for myself."

"I know it's not much, but—" Munch started to say.

Casey shook her head. "No, it's a lot, John. I mean I'm alive and safe, right? That's the important thing."

'There she goes again,' Munch thought, 'putting on the brave face.' He knew it was just an act on Casey's part, but that didn't make him think any less of her. If anything, he admired Casey more than ever. Munch wanted nothing more than to walk over right now and give her a big hug and tell her that everything would be all right, and….

'All right, knock it off,' Munch chided himself. 'You're protecting this woman. So stay professional, you dumb schmuck!'

Casey leaned up against the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen and let out a heavy exhale of air. "You know, I was just wondering about how good I'd be at selling insurance."

When Munch only stared at her in confusion, Casey's voice broke with emotion as she added, "Alex Cabot worked at an insurance company when she was in Witness Protection, didn't she? Before she came out and testified against her assassin? I'd wonder how I'd do working a job like that when I'm in Witness Protection."

'Oh, to hell with professionalism!' Munch thought. He went over to Casey, sat her down on the sofa and held her hand. "Listen to me, nothing is set in stone right now," he told her. "We've got a lot of good people looking into this. Both the SVU and the Major Case Squad are working this case from both ends. Remember what Cragen said last night? Well, he was right: we will find this bastard, Casey."

"And what if it turns out to be the same damn drug lords who forced Alex into hiding?" Casey asked, her eyes tearing up. "I've recently put away one of their assassins, John. If it's them, if they're after me, then they won't stop hunting me until I'm…I'm—"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Munch said, cutting her off. "But until then, no more talk about that stuff. We're still not sure who's responsible for this, and you're not in permanent hiding yet, so let's just take this one step at a time. Take it one day at a time, ok?"

"Ok, John," Casey said with a nod of her head.

She was one of the few people who referred to him by his first name, and Munch loved hearing her say it. He gave her his handkerchief to wipe away her tears. She took it, and then paused and said, "This is clean, isn't it?"

"Of course it's clean," Munch replied, deadpan. "I've only blown my nose with it once or twice…or was that three times? I forget…."

He got the response he wanted when Casey burst into laughter.

Fin walked in carrying Casey's suitcases. With his goatee and dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, he always looked more like a gang-banger than a cop. "Oh, this is great," he said with mock anger. "You leave me literally holding the bags so you can cuddle with the pretty ADA!"

Casey started laughing even harder again as Munch slowly shook his head at Fin. "Are you saying you want some help?" he said. "Because if you do, I'd be glad to give you a hand."

"You? Doing hard labor? Yeah, right!" Fin replied with a wave of his hand. He grew serious as he added, "Nah, I'm done anyway. Besides, we got a call from Warner. She wants to see us about Lu's body."

"Both of us?" Munch said, hiding the disappointment in his voice. He had been hoping to stay with Casey for a little while longer.

"Yeah, well, it is our case," Fin reminded him. "Besides, Larry's already here. He's got the first shift with Casey."

"You mean Larry is my first babysitter," Casey wryly said. She handed Munch back his handkerchief.

As he reluctantly got off the sofa, Munch waved his hands at the handkerchief. "No, you keep it. It's got ADA germs on it now."

Casey glared at him. "Wha…well, thank you very much, John!"

"Hey, Larry," Fin said, as a uniformed officer entered the room. "Thanks for taking the first shift, man."

"Yeah, Larry, thanks," Casey sarcastically joined in. "That is, if you don't mind my ADA germs."

"Uh…yeah…" Officer Lawrence Kolinsky stared at all of them as if they were insane. "Um, I'll be in the next room, Ms. Novak."

Just as Munch turned to leave with Fin, he felt a slight tug on his arm. It was Casey, who squeezed his hand and whispered, "Seriously, John: thanks for being there for me."

"Anytime," he said softly. "I'll see you later."

Once outside, as he and Fin walked to their car, Munch's hand still tingled from Casey's touch. As he got in the passenger seat, Munch stared down at his palm and imagined it touching Casey's hand once more. He then imagined gently touching Casey's hair, and then caressing the smooth silky skin of her face, and….

'Oh, whom are you kidding?' he abruptly told himself. 'She's a beautiful, vibrant young woman. What would she want with an old geezer like yourself?'

He looked over and saw Fin was staring at him strangely. "What's with you?" Fin asked.

"Nothing," Munch said defensively. "What do you mean?"

"Yeah, right," Fin muttered. He rolled his eyes as he started the car. "Never mind, then."

'All right, enough,' Munch told himself. 'Just forget about Casey for now and get on with the business of the job. Stay focused, Munch, just stay focused.'

However, despite his best efforts, Munch could not stop thinking about Casey for the rest of that day.

**To Be Continued...**


	4. An Investigation Of Merit

**Author's Note: Once again, I would just like to convey my thanks for all the great feedback. It's much appreciated. **

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Three: An Investigation Of Merit**

**The Horner Building. Friday, April 24**

Elliot Stabler stifled a yawn as he watched the monitor. He and Olivia were in the main security center of the Horner building, the office complex from whose roof the sniper had fired from. He felt very irritable; thanks to a night of fitful sleep. His subconscious kept reliving the assassination attempt over and over again in his dreams. He woke up every twenty minutes or so with a start, half expecting to see the bedroom window blown out from a sniper's bullets. Once he reached out for Kathy, his wife, only to discover that she was not there. Waking up in a fearful mood from a bad dream was not the best time for Elliot to be reminded that his wife had left him several months before.

He rubbed his face with his hands in an effort to keep his bleary eyes open.

Olivia leaned in close to him and said, "We keeping you up?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Actually, you are."

Ignoring his little joke, Olivia gazed at him with concern. "You ok, Elliot?"

"Rough night," Elliot said. "Didn't get much sleep…whoa!" Elliot jabbed a finger at the monitor. "What's that? What was that guy carrying?"

The security guard seated at the console rewound the videotape. They were watching security video of the building's freight-receiving department in an effort to find a suspicious person who entered the building with a case large enough to conceal an AR-15. So far, the only people in and out were various deliverymen. Normally, they would have checked the video for the main lobby, but the security checkpoints there were so thorough—building security normally checked every large package via X-ray—that the sniper wouldn't have bothered to go through there in the first place. And the video surveillance system leading to, and on, the rooftop were out of commission, a flaw that the building management swore they would fix right away, but that was too late to help them now.

The security guard, a young African-American woman named Alicia, found the spot that Elliot had indicated. Elliot and Olivia leaned in close over Alicia's shoulders as they peered at the monitor. They watched a man in a tan leather coat wander in from the street onto the loading dock carrying a large package under his arm.

"That package looks pretty snug to hide the gun he was using," Olivia commented.

"You can break down an AR-15 to fit that size package," Elliot said. He should know, since he had spent the better part of his time in the Marines stripping down and then reassembling his M-16 over and over again. When the man walked out of camera range, he added, "Where's he going?"

"He's in the east quadrant of the loading dock," Alicia replied, as she punched up the tape from that camera. They watched as the man brought the package over to the main counter of the loading dock. He spoke to the clerk, and then opened the package, revealing several pieces of severely damaged camera equipment.

"Damn it," Olivia said in frustration. "It's just a guy bringing back damaged merchandise."

"We'll keep looking," Elliot said grimly.

"At what?" Olivia asked. She gestured at the monitor. "Look at the time on the tape. It's 5:20 pm on the day of the shooting. The sniper would already have been setting up on the roof by now."

"You're right," Elliot said with a heavy sigh. They had already looked at the security tapes for the employee entrance without any success, as well as the tapes for the freight-receiving department going back a week, and it had all turned out to be a dead end. How the hell did a sniper sneak an AR-15 into a downtown Manhattan office building that was loaded to the gills with post-9/11 security?

He glanced up at the top monitor on the shelf, which showed a live feed from the loading dock. As he watched a UPS truck back in, Elliot sardonically thought, 'Son of a bitch must have mailed himself into the place, right along with his piece.'

"Oh jeez," he softly muttered, as the idea struck him.

"What is it?" Olivia asked.

Elliot gazed at Alicia, who was so young she looked like she should have been at home studying for a high school exam, rather than running a multi-million dollar security console. "You said before that every package in the main lobby was x-rayed before it could be brought into the building, right?"

"Yes," Alicia confirmed.

Elliot pointed at the UPS truck on the monitor. "What about the freight-receiving department? Do you x-ray those packages?"

"No, of course not," Alicia said, as if that was the most absurd thing she had ever heard. "We never x-ray the packages that come in from the freight companies. There's just too much there to handle."

Elliot slowly turned and gave his partner a knowing look.

Olivia stared back at him, her face slack with amazement. "He actually had the frigging gun sent to himself here, didn't he?" she whispered. "That's how he got it past all the security."

"Let's go find out," Elliot said.

They went downstairs to the freight-receiving department and got a list of every package that arrived at the building for the last week, before the sniper fired on Casey's office. The problem was that there were more than a thousand packages total on the list.

"We're gonna have to call Munch and Fin for help," Elliot said dourly, as he looked over the list. "Because this is a lot of crap to track down."

"Munch and Fin are busy moving Casey to the safe house," Olivia said, with a glance at her watch. "Besides, we should be able to narrow down the search."

"How?"

"Well, think about it, El. If he mailed the package to himself here, then he would need an address, wouldn't he? If he's set all of this up just to get at Casey, then I'm betting that he's a new tenant to this office building. So all we have to do is find out who rented an office in the last few months, and see if they also got a package either yesterday, or within the past few days."

"Of course!" Elliot lightly slapped his forehead with the list. The lack of sleep had made him as dull as a butter knife today. "Liv, I could kiss you."

"Promises, promises," she jokingly said, when they entered the elevator. As they rode up to the building management offices, her cell phone rung. "Benson," she answered briskly. And then Olivia's stern professional cop demeanor abruptly melted as she smiled shyly. "Eric! Hi, how are you! Yeah, I got your message."

Elliot watched with bemusement the change in his partner once Olivia realized she was speaking with her boyfriend. He had not met Eric yet, but just from seeing the elated reaction Olivia had whenever she spoke with him, or about him, Elliot sensed that this one was special. For her sake, he sincerely hoped this guy didn't turn out to be an utter moron like the others.

"I gotta go," Olivia said, as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. "Yeah, I'll call you later. Ok." As she put her cell phone away, Olivia did a double take when she saw Elliot. "What?"

"New boyfriend?" he asked.

"No," she said quickly. "Eric's just a friend."

Elliot just grinned broadly as they stepped out of the elevator. "Uh-huh."

"What do you mean 'uh-huh'?" Olivia demanded.

"Nothing," Elliot replied, acting innocent. "I just said 'uh-huh', that's all."

"Then what's with the goofy grin?"

"What goofy grin?" Elliot said sweetly, as he continued to grin broadly at her.

"You know something?" Olivia said, growing aggravated. "I really hate it when you do this."

Elliot continued to tease her. "Do what? What am I doing?"

Olivia just shook her head as they strolled up to the main counter. "You're really lucky that I can't hurt you right now because there are too many people around."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," he commented. "It's all timing."

They asked for, and received, a list of the most recent residents of the office building within the last year. There were fifteen total. When they tried to match these up with the shipping list from the freight-receiving department, they discovered that five of the new tenants received packages over the last few days.

Unfortunately the list did not specify the size and weight of the packages that had been delivered, so Elliot and Olivia had to check out each and every company on the list. And after almost two hours of running down the five new companies, they came up with nothing.

"So much for my idea," Olivia said dolefully, as they walked towards the elevator. They had just come out of the fifth and last office with nothing to show for their efforts. None of the companies had received anything suspicious.

"It was still a good idea," Elliot told her, as he pushed the elevator button.

"Stop trying to cheer me up," she grumpily said.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Elliot said with a grin, "That's lover boy's job, isn't it?"

"His name is Eric," Olivia told him with a heavy sigh, "and he's just a friend. And if I weren't so tired right now, I'd slap you silly all over this frigging hallway."

Normally Elliot would have had a comeback ready for her, but something caught his attention. There was an office across the hall from them that was empty and dark. As he suddenly walked over to it and peered inside, an idea crystallized within his mind.

Olivia walked up and stood beside him. "What is it?" she asked, all business.

"It just occurred to me that if the sniper has an office in this building, then he wouldn't be in today, would he? I mean after what happened yesterday, he certainly wouldn't be within a ten mile radius of this area, right?"

"I see what you're getting at," Olivia said with a frown. "But what do we do, check attendance in every single office in the building?"

Elliot pointed at the darkened office they both stood in front of. "Or just run down all the single-occupant offices for now. Specifically, the offices on the east side of this building…."

"Only check the single occupant offices that face the DA's office complex," Olivia said with a nod. "You think he was casing her all along, don't you?"

"Hey, it's just a hunch," Elliot said with a shrug.

"But a damn good one," Olivia replied with a smile. "Let's check it out with Alicia. All the offices in this building have glass doors. Maybe she can save us the legwork by using the surveillance cameras to see if there's anybody who's not in today."

The elevator doors opened and they caught it just in the nick of time. When they arrived back at the security center and told Alicia what they needed, she grew very thoughtful. "We don't have cameras in the offices themselves," she said. "But with the exception of the rooftop, we've got all the hallways on every floor covered."

"We just need to see the offices on the east side of the building," Olivia told her. "Can you do that?"

"Sure," Alicia said.

"Wait, let's narrow it down even further," Elliot said. "Only show us the hallways from the 25th floor on up. If the sniper did scope out Casey's office beforehand, he would need to be in an office with a clear view of hers."

Alicia worked her magic on the console, and brought up several hallways on the east side of the building on a row of the monitors. Olivia and Elliot peered closely at the monitors and shook their heads when they saw that all of the offices were occupied.

"Bring up the next floor," Elliot requested.

They began to lose hope after they saw that the next several floors were all presently occupied.

"The thirtieth and last floor is coming up," Alicia announced.

"BINGO!" Elliot said, as he pointed at a darkened office on that floor. He squinted his eyes in an effort to see into the office, but thanks to the sharp angle of the camera, as well as the darkness beyond the glass door, there wasn't much detail to be seen on the monitor. "Can't see anything other than the fact that it's closed."

"We'll go up and check it out," Olivia said. She turned to Alicia and added, "Can you get somebody to come with us and open the door?"

"Yeah, me!" Alicia said excitedly.

After calling a comrade to take over for her on the console, Alicia rode up with the detectives to the office on the thirtieth floor. All the while, the young security guard burbled on to Olivia about how she was interested in joining the police academy. Elliot thought she was a sweet kid who should stay right where she was in this nice cushy job of hers. It wasn't that he thought she couldn't hack it being a cop, but Alicia appeared to be somewhat starry-eyed about the job. Most civilians tended to romanticize about being a cop. And while the job certainly had its perks, it had its bad days, as well. Elliot knew from experience that you needed a thick skin and a strong stomach to make it in the NYPD.

When they arrived on the 30th floor, the darkened office turned out to be number 3015, a single-resident office. Olivia peered through the glass door and said, "Oh good Christ! Elliot, look at this!"

Elliot glanced through the glass, and what he saw made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

On the desk, just a few feet away from the door, was a large package that had been opened.

"That box looks big enough for an AR-15, even stripped down," Elliot said with a nod. "This is looking good so far, Liv."

"Go ahead and open it," Olivia told Alicia.

"This tenant has been a perfect gentleman," Alicia muttered, as she opened the door. "He's been here for eight years. We've never had any trouble with him whatsoever."

Alicia was about to walk inside with the detectives until they both gently placed their hands on her shoulders. "No," Olivia told her. "You stay out here until we've established that it's safe."

Once they were inside the office, the detectives pulled out their Glock handguns as Elliot officially called out their presence. When nobody answered, he and Olivia nodded at each other and then carefully checked out the entire office suite. When they were satisfied that there was nobody present, they put their guns away.

Elliot walked over to the window and peered outside. He saw the DA's office across the street. He had a perfect view of Casey's office window from here; Elliot could clearly see the CSU techs that were still bustling around Casey's office, collecting as many clues as they could find.

'How long has this bastard been staring at her?' Elliot wondered, as the rage slowly began to build within him. 'He's been a resident in this office for eight years…that's longer than Casey's been with the SVU.'

Olivia came up and also stared out the window. Then she turned to Elliot and asked, "Looks like Casey's got herself a stalker."

Elliot grimly nodded in agreement. "But her stalker is now being stalked…by us. C'mon, let's check out that box."

After they both put their crime scene gloves on, Elliot and Olivia went over to the cardboard box. The foam padding that was within the box was perfectly cut to fit a smaller box, which no doubt held the AR-15.Olivia carefully closed the box lid, then leaned over and read the address label.

She stared up at him with a stunned expression on her face. "Elliot, this was mailed from Jeanne Lu's apartment."

"We'd better get CSU down here," he said. "Along with everybody else."

As Olivia called in the crime scene, Elliot glared at the box, which once contained the very same gun that almost killed him and Casey. They were getting very close to the sniper, now; Elliot was looking forward to the moment when he finally met the bastard face to face. 'When that moment comes, I just hope I can control my anger,' Elliot thought, 'for the sniper's sake.'

Alicia stood anxiously by the doorway. "Is that what's you're looking for?"

"Yeah," Elliot said. "It is. It looks like we found the sniper. We'll need to see the tapes from the cameras in the hallway outside going back the last few days."

The young security guard appeared very disturbed at this turn of events. "I can't believe that the tenant of this office is the sniper," she said, shaking her head. "He's such a nice man!"

"Really?" Elliot said. "And what's this nice man's name? Because I'd sure like to meet him."

**To Be Continued...**


	5. Revelation

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews! Keep 'em coming!

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Five: Revelation**

When they pulled up to the brownstone, Olivia saw the SWAT team had already arrived. She stripped off her leather jacket and went around to the trunk of the car to retrieve her bulletproof vest when Elliot called to her. She glanced over and saw Cragen walking up to them. "SWAT already cleared the building," he told them. "No need for the vests."

"Anyone home?" she asked, as she put her jacket back on.

Cragen shook his head. "Nobody in the house, and no sign of Verges."

Anthony Verges was the sole occupant of office suite 3015, the same office where the AR-15 had been delivered. He ran a small accounting business out of that office for the last eight years. His clientele were mostly affluent New Yorkers who enjoyed having a CPA who utilized a personal touch with their accounts. Verges had no priors; in fact he was such a law-abiding citizen that he did not even get so much as a parking ticket. Olivia and Elliot still couldn't figure out what made a man like this snap, and why he took his rage out on Casey, a woman whom he apparently had no connection with whatsoever.

'And how did Jeanne Lu fit into all of this?' Olivia wondered, as she bounded up the steps of the brownstone with Elliot at her side. 'Why would Mr. Mild-Mannered Accountant terrorize Lu in her home before shooting her? Unless there was a nasty side to Verges that nobody knew about.'

They entered the foyer, which had a staircase leading to the second floor. Black-clad SWAT team members who toted automatic weapons passed them by, on their way out the door. Olivia smiled a greeting at several of the SWAT team members whom she recognized. Cragen's cell phone started to ring, and he excused himself to answer it.

Captain Judith Siper of the Crime Scene Unit gave them a nod in greeting as she strode past with two of her CSU people in tow. "Detectives. Please bear with us, we're just getting started."

"No problem. We just got here ourselves," Olivia told her. She dug into her jacket pocket for a pair of latex crime scene gloves, only to find it empty. "Dammit! El, you got extra gloves?"

Elliot handed her a pair as he stared in disapproval at the wallpaper, which was done up in a garish red style with a gold trim pattern. "This place looks like the waiting room for a Turkish whorehouse."

Olivia shot him a startled look as she slipped on the gloves. She was about to ask Elliot how he knew what the inside of a Turkish whorehouse looked like, until she thought the better of it. She really didn't need to listen to another of his gung-ho Marine stories right now.

Cragen ended his call and walked over to them. "That was Munch. Warner's done the autopsy on Jeanne Lu. She had been tranquilized by a dart shot from a gun. The tranquilizer is the same type that's used on animals in zoos."

Elliot nodded. "So we're also looking for a dart gun here, among other things."

"Exactly," Cragen replied. "I'll inform Judith to tell her people what to look for, as well."

Olivia began searching through the living room, while Elliot tossed the adjoining dining room. Olivia spotted several pictures on top of the mantelpiece above the fireplace. She recognized Verges in several of the pictures. He was in his sixties with short, graying hair. He appeared to be quite the ladies' man, judging from the photos of the various women he posed with.

'This doesn't make any sense,' she thought. 'If Verges was truly the dashing lover that these pictures depicted, then what made him go after Casey like he did? Did he meet Casey on the street and she rejected him? And Verges couldn't stand the rejection so much that he had to kill her?'

Olivia shook her head. It just didn't add up for her. The photos showed a well-adjusted man who enjoyed a tremendous social life. But then again, most psychopaths appeared to be normal on the surface, anyway.

Yet there was something else that Olivia noted was odd. In the photos, Anthony Verges appeared to be well over six feet tall. When they viewed the surveillance footage that showed him coming and going from his office, he appeared shorter, around six feet in height.

'But then, we never actually saw Verges' face on the video,' Olivia realized. 'He always wore either a cap or a hat, and kept his head down as he passed the camera, as if deliberately trying to hide his face. Maybe that was why Verges looked shorter in the video, because he was always hunched down.'

Cragen stepped into the living room just then. "Olivia, Elliot, they've found a body downstairs."

The three of them quickly descended the steps. The cellar was typical for most homes; it was mostly unfinished, with bare brick walls, and was used mainly as a storage space. Siper led them over to the washer and dryer, where she pointed out a horizontal freezer unit by the wall. The body was inside the freezer. One of her CSU techs was taking detailed pictures of the remains inside.

"We've already called the M.E.'s office," Siper said. "Warner's on the way."

Olivia waited until the CSU tech was finished with his photos before she stepped closer for a better look at the body in the freezer. It was a man, and Olivia's eyes grew wide when she saw whom it was. She had just seen that same face in the photos upstairs.

"It's Anthony Verges," she told Elliot and Cragen.

**SVU Squad Room. 16 Precinct. Friday April 24.**

"Yes, yes, look!" Goren got up from his seat and pointed at the TV set. "See? He's deliberately slumping his shoulders, trying to make himself look weaker, smaller, than he actually is."

Cragen leaned in with everyone else who was gathered around the TV and stared at the surveillance footage of the hallway outside of Anthony Verges' office. They watched as a man stepped out of the elevator and strolled down the hallway with his head down. TARU had cut the footage down so that it only showed the occupant of office 3015 coming and leaving his office over the course of several days. It turned out that whoever killed Verges had done so about a week ago. The killer had switched Verges' answering machine on with a pre-recorded message from Verges that stated he was away on vacation.

"He never looked up at the camera," Fin noted. "Not once. And he's always wearing some kind of hat."

"So we still don't know what he looks like," Eames said dejectedly. "Meaning we're still back to square one."

Munch gestured at the man on the TV. "He's also always wearing gloves. How much you wanna bet he never takes them off when he's in Verges' office."

Goren nodded in agreement. "He's a professional. This is somebody who knows what he's doing. He knows how to work clean. CSU won't find any of his prints in Verges' office."

"Ok," Cragen said with a weary sigh. "What do we have so far?"

The assembled group of detectives in the SVU squad room—Munch and Fin, along with the two detectives from the MCS, Goren and Eames—all stared awkwardly at him for a second, until Munch leaned forward in his seat and said, "Pretty much zilch, Captain."

'It's gonna be one of those days,' Cragen though with a curt nod. "All right, let me rephrase the question: what do we _know_ so far?"

"It doesn't look like the drug lords put a hit on Casey," Fin offered. "I've checked with my contacts back in narcotics, and they basically say that all's quiet on that front."

"But they have a motive," Cragen said. "After all, Casey did put away one of their top assassins." That had been a particularly sweet victory for everyone in the SVU, because that very same assassin, an Irish national nicknamedThe Ghost, was also responsible for the attempted murder of the SVU's former ADA Alex Cabot.

"What happened to The Ghost wouldn't stick in the cartel's craw," Fin said with a shake of his head. "They see that as simply the cost of doing business, Cap. Besides, The Ghost was an outside contractor, so he was considered expendable by the cartel, anyway."

"We've been going over Ms. Novak's prior cases," Eames spoke up. "And while we've found some people who might still hold a grudge, none of them have the resources to hire an assassin the caliber of the one we're dealing with."

Elliot and Olivia entered the squad room just then. When Olivia saw Goren she initially gave him a hard look, then caught herself, her flash of anger quickly vanishing as she coolly put her jacket away.

"Elliot, Olivia, pull up some chairs," Cragen said. "Join the discussion. You know Detectives Goren and Eames of the Major Case Squad?"

"Yeah, we've met," Elliot said, as he took a seat. "Just wish the circumstances were better."

"Same here," Eames agreed. "How's Ms. Novak doing?"

"Good. She's in protective custody." Glancing at Cragen, he added, "We just got back from the M.E.'s Office. Warner found a mark from a tranquilizer dart on Anthony Verges' neck."

"Just like on Jeanne Lu?" Munch asked.

Elliot nodded. "The problem is after being in that freezer for a few days, Verges is basically a Popsicle, so Warner has to wait until he thaws out before she can open him up. But the marks are exactly the same."

"Verges' handshad been tied at one point," Olivia said. "There are ligature marks on his wrists.We're thinking Verges had been kept alive long enough to record that vacation message for his answering machine.Then he shot Verges in the backof the head, and then dumped him in the freezer, fully clothed."

"When you say 'he', who do you mean?" Cragen asked.

"The sniper," Olivia said. "Our thinking is that the sniper wanted the use of Verges' office. So he could stake out Casey before the hit."

"Yeah, that's the theory we've been working with, as well," Cragen said. "Verges' office had a great view of Casey's office. It would have been the perfect place for him to find out when she would be in, and learn her routine."

"So after choosing Verges' office, the sniper tracks him down and kills him," Olivia said. "Then he assumes Verges' identity to stake out Casey's office. Once he gets a handle on when he can get her, he has his gun delivered to the office from Jeanne Lu's apartment. Then he brings the gun up to the roof and attempts the hit."

"I'm surprised he didn't just shoot right from the office," said Eames.

Goren shook his head thoughtfully. "No, this guy would want to shoot from the roof."

"The rooftop has several escape routes," Elliot pointed out. "Whereas the office just has that one doorway leading out."

"Yeah," Goren concurred. "It's much better for him to shoot from the roof. The best assassins always leave themselves as many avenues of escape as possible."

"This guy is calm, methodical and plans way in advance," said Munch, rattled. "He certainly sounds like a major league assassin, Captain. We're basically looking for another Carlos The Jackal here."

"Yeah, but..." Elliot started to say, then stopped.

"Yeah, but…what, Elliot?" Cragen asked.

"It's just that the bastard had us right in his sights, Captain," Elliot said softly. "I mean, I'm listening to how he meticulously sets all of this up, and yet at the end, he fouls the shot—not that I'm complaining, of course, but how much of a super sniper can this guy be?"

"Even assassins have bad days, fortunately," Cragen told him.

"We still don't know what's the connection between him and Jeanne Lu was," Olivia added. "Was she more than just a one night stand? We now know that he used her apartment to mail the gun to himself."

"Maybe things suddenly got hot for him at Verges' place," Fin suggested. "So he quickly left there and set up shop someplace else. He could have just picked up Lu for both a roll in the hay, as well as for using her place to send the gun to himself."

"If something scared him away from Verges' place, I want to know what it was," Cragen said. He gestured at Elliot, Olivia, Munch and Fin. "I want the four of you to go back to Verges' neighborhood and canvass the area, see if anybody saw anything suspicious in the past few days."

Goren abruptly stared at Elliot as if he had just noticed him for the first time. He then stood up and glanced around the SVU squad room. "Detective Stabler, which one is your desk?"

"That one," Elliot pointed.

Everyone watched as Goren strode over to Elliot's desk, and then he walked over to the windows on the far side of the squad room. He mumbled under his breath as he stared outside, and then turned around to stare thoughtfully back at Elliot's desk.

Eames had a broad grin as she sheepishly shrugged her shoulders at the SVU detectives, as if to say, 'what can you do?'

Munch and Fin exchanged a wide-eyed glance as Olivia slowly shook her head in disgust. Elliot watched Goren's antics with a baffled look on his face.

Cragen allowed Goren to walk around, muttering to himself, for a bit longer before he said, "Is there something we can help you with, Detective Goren?"

Goren glanced up suddenly, as if catching himself. "My apologies, Captain," he said, as he came back over to the group. "But something just occurred to me. There's another angle to this shooting that none of us has even considered yet."

"And what's that?" Cragen asked.

"That Casey Novak wasn't the intended target," Goren said. "I believe that the sniper actually may have been gunning for Detective Stabler."

**To Be Continued...**


	6. A Cry In The Dark

**Author's Note:** Once again, I just want to thank everybody for the feedback. It's always great to hear from you. Please keep it coming.

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Six: A Cry In The Dark**

Elliot flinched as if he had been struck. When the implication of what Goren just said finally hit him, he stood up and faced the detective from the Major Crimes Squad. "Me?" he said incredulously. "I'm the target?"

"You were the only other person in the office with Casey Novak at the time of the shooting," Goren said.

Elliot shook his head. He still couldn't wrap his brain around this one. "If this bastard's after me, then why wait for me at Casey's office?"

"Because that's the best place to get to you," Goren told him. "Ms. Novak is the ADA for your squad, right? How often do you visit her office on a daily basis?"

"That's ridiculous!" Olivia cried. "If he really wanted Elliot, he could have hit him at anytime during the day." She gestured at the massive row of windows in the SVU squad room. "Hell, why didn't he just set up across the street and pick Elliot off right here at his desk?"

"If you're trying to be supportive of me, Liv, I'm really not feeling it," Elliot muttered half-jokingly.

"No, she's right," said Goren. "That's why I asked you where your desk was before, and then checked it out. You see the sniper couldn't have shot you here, because your desk is too far from the windows. Even if the sniper sets up from the building that's the closest to this stationhouse, he still can't hit you. However, he's got perfect coverage of all the desks over here, which are right by the windows."

"And to think that I always enjoyed my view by the windows," Munch said nervously. He glanced over at Fin and asked, "You wanna help me move my desk later?"

"Only if you help me move mine first," Fin replied. Their good-natured exchange caused Detective Eames to burst into laughter.

"And, being a detective, you're on the move all day, Elliot," Goren continued. "Your job takes you everywhere—as I know full well myself. For our sniper to try and track you down for a hit would be maddening, because as detectives, we've no set routine." He shook his head. "No, Ms. Novak's office would be the perfect place to get to you."

"Elliot, don't take this the wrong way," Eames said, as she turned to her partner. "But why doesn't the sniper just hit him at his home?"

Before Goren could reply, Elliot somberly said, "Because I'm never there. I separated from my wife a few months ago. I've got an apartment, but I'm never there, either. Most nights I'm usually sleeping in the crib right upstairs."

"I'm sorry to bring your personal life into this," Goren said sympathetically. "But that is just further proof of my theory. Casey Novak's office is the only place where you visit regularly where the sniper can get a good shot at you."

But Olivia was still not convinced. "So I suppose we'll just release Casey from protective custody now," she said sarcastically.

"No," Cragen firmly replied. "While Detective Goren makes a very valid point, we still don't really know for sure who the sniper was gunning for, and until we do, Casey stays put. If nothing else, we've now got another avenue of this investigation open to us. Detectives Goren and Eames, I realize you're here to share information as a courtesy, but I was wondering if you two would like to investigate any connection between Elliot and the sniper."

"We'd love to," Eames said. She glanced at Goren and he nodded. "I guess we could start right now by asking Detective Stabler if he has any enemies."

"Do I have enemies?" Elliot asked with a grim chuckle. "Does a bear shit in the woods?"

"I'll take that as a yes," Eames replied uneasily.

"Look, there's a lot of people out there who don't like me," Elliot told her. "But I can't name anybody right off the bat who would have the muscle to hire a pro like this to kill me."

"Perhaps if we went through your old case files," Goren suggested.

Elliot nodded. "Be my guest."

Cragen gestured at Elliot, Olivia, Munch and Fin. "All right, you four get back over to Verges' place and canvass the neighborhood. Find out if anybody saw anything unusual over the past few days. Good hunting. Elliot," he added, "before you go, I'd like a moment of your time in my office."

"We'll see you over there," Fin said as he and Munch left the squad room.

When Elliot entered the Captain's office, Cragen leaned up against his desk and asked, "You want some personal time, Elliot?"

"No, Captain. Not unless you're ordering me to…."

Cragen shook his head. "Just wanted to make sure, that's all. Are you sure you can't think of anybody off hand who'd want to do this?"

"Hire a major league assassin to blow me away?" Elliot said with a shrug. He thought about all the perps, skells, and scumbags that he had clashed with in his years with the NYPD. In his career Elliot Stabler had given a lot of people good cause to be very angry with him, and some of them were even connected to the mob. "Assuming Goren's right and I'm the real target, it could be anybody, Cap. Like I've told him and Eames, I've got a long list of people who are pissed off at me."

"That's because you're a damn good cop, Elliot," Cragen said solemnly. "And whether you're the real target or not, I want you to keep your head down out there, understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Elliot said.

"Then get going." Cragen walked around and took a seat at his desk, signifying that the conversation was over. "And please tell Goren and Eames that I'd like to see them."

Once Elliot strode out to the squad room, he noticed that the tension in the air was so palpable he almost could taste it. Goren and Eames sat tensely in their chairs, while Olivia stood by her desk, holding her jacket over her arm, waiting for him. She shot Goren a fierce look as she said, "Ready, El?"

"Yeah." Elliot got the feeling he had just walked in on the tail end of an argument. He told Goren and Eames that Cragen wanted to see them. As they got up from their chairs, Elliot glanced at Goren and said, "Thanks for the different perspective."

"No problem. I just hope I'm wrong," Goren said, with an uncomfortable glance over at Olivia. "Take care, Detective Stabler."

"You too."

Elliot got his jacket from his desk and strode over to Olivia. "What just happened?"

"Nothing," she snapped, as they walked briskly out of the squad room.

All while they rode down the elevator, walked out the front door of the stationhouse, and got into their squad car, Elliot patiently waited for Olivia to open up to him. When she didn't, Elliot decided to make his move. As he pulled the car out of its parking space and drove down the street, he said, "You know, Liv, Goren may be a bit on the weird side—"

"That's putting it mildly," Olivia muttered darkly.

"But he has a point."

"Yeah, and it's on his frigging head."

'Jeez, she's really pissed,' Elliot thought. He might as well be more direct. "Did you have words with Goren and Eames just now?"

"You could say that," Olivia said with a shake of her head. "After you went in to see the Cap, Goren started telling me how it might be better if you were taken off the case, for your own safety. He said that was just his opinion, of course. I told him where he could stuff his opinion."

Elliot burst into a grin at that. "I'm damned lucky to have you as a partner."

"You really are one lucky SOB to have me," Olivia said flatly. Then she broke into a broad smile as her anger finally subsided. "Yeah, that's me, all right," she sarcastically added, "always making friends and winning over new allies."

"Hey, we're SVU, making enemies is par for the course for us," Elliot told her. "We should be used to it by now."

"Yeah, but when somebody just rubs me the wrong way—like Goren—I just cut them off at the hips and move on. I guess I have a short fuse when it comes to dealing with annoying people."

Elliot thought about what Casey had said to him in her office, just before the sniper attack. "Is Casey one of those annoying people?"

Olivia glanced sharply at him. "What do you mean?"

Elliot was immediately sorry for bringing up Casey's problem, especially now. 'But in for a penny, in for a pound,' he wearily thought. "Just after you stormed out of Casey's office, and just before her window got blown out by our trigger-happy friend, Casey told me about how she doesn't feel as close to you a she does with everybody else in the squad."

"Hey, look, El, I know I said a lot of awful things to her, and I've been meaning to apologize. But with everything's that happened since…."

Elliot shook his head. "It's not just the argument, Liv. It's something that's been simmering for a while, and the argument over Beauchamp just brought it to the surface. Casey basically told me that she never felt close to you as she does with everybody else in the SVU. She says she feels like you're always keeping her at arm's length."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Olivia cried. "I haven't slapped her around or anything like that. I've been nothing but cordial with her, even during the times when I've actually felt like slapping her around."

"Yeah, but that's just it," Elliot said. "You've never felt that way with Alex."

"That's because Alex always went the distance for us," Olivia said heatedly. "And Casey never does."

"That's bullshit, Liv."

"Is it? Alex even risked her career for us on more than one occasion."

"So has Casey. Remember Judge Taft?" Elliot asked. "How he needlessly cut down one of our cases in court? Casey took him on and got him kicked off the bench. She's just as dedicated as Alex was. And don't forget the time when she—"

He was cut off when Olivia let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, I see what this is. "You just want me to get along with your new girlfriend, right?"

"WHAT!" Elliot shouted. That remark caught him so off guard that he nearly missed a turn. Thankfully, he had to stop for a red light, so there was plenty of time to compensate. "Now what the hell are YOU talking about?"

"Give me a break, Elliot! Ever since you and Kathy broke up you've been paying extra special attention to Casey. I've seen the way you hold her, put your hand on her shoulder, the way you two are always so close and friendly. And she's got it just as bad for you, as well. The last few times we were in her office Casey looked like she wanted to jump right into your arms. So c'mon, who do you really think you're kidding here?"

Elliot was so stunned he never realized the light had turned green until the car behind him angrily honked its horn. He snapped out of it long enough to pull the car down the street where Verges lived. Munch and Fin were already waiting for them on the sidewalk as Elliot parked the car and switched off the engine.

Elliot didn't say anything. And it wasn't because he was taken aback at what Olivia just said to him; it was also because a part of him realized that what she was true. Elliot always had been very affectionate towards Casey, even before Kathy broke it off with him. But since he became a bachelor once again, well…Elliot thought back on the private times when he affectionately held Casey, and now realized that Olivia had simply given a voice to feelings that had been deeply buried at the back of his mind.

Olivia sat stiffly in her seat and stared straight ahead. "Believe me, I know all about what you're going through," she said in a hoarse whisper. "Dating somebody on the squad…I've been there myself."

"You mean Cassidy," Elliot said with a nod. Brian Cassidy was a fellow detective who served in the SVU several years back before transferring to narcotics. He and Olivia shared a drunken one-night stand that she had always regretted.

Olivia glared at him. "No. I mean now it's your turn to fall in love with the squad's ADA. So just relax and enjoy it while you can. Because if things don't work out, Casey may wind up going away in Witness Protection, as well."

Elliot stared at Olivia in numb shock as he realized what she just said. When she hastily got out of the car, he reached out to stop her. "No, Liv, wait…."

But it was too late. Olivia was already out of the car and walking towards Munch and Fin. "Either of you feel like switching partners?" she asked. "Just for the canvass?"

"Yeah, sure," Munch said with a shrug.

"C'mon, then let's go," Olivia said abruptly. "We'll take this side of the block."

Munch shot a confused look over his shoulder at Elliot and Fin as he followed Olivia down the street.

'Olivia and Alex…' Elliot thought, still astounded. 'Who the hell knew? I sure as shit didn't!'

Fin stared after Olivia, and then glanced at Elliot in puzzlement. "Uh, what's going on?"

But Elliot, who reeled at what Olivia had just told him, still had trouble grappling with the entire situation in his own mind, much less try and discuss it with Fin. "Look, I really don't want to go there right now," he told Fin. "Let's just get this damn canvass done, ok?"

"That's probably a very good idea," Fin muttered, as he walked with Elliot down the street.

**A Few Hours Later**

'Shit,' Olivia thought.

She and Munch were riding down in a rickety elevator to the lobby in an apartment building that was thankfully the last one on the block. Everybody whom they spoke to hadn't seen or heard anything strange in the neighborhood. One old woman even went so far as to tell them: "This is New Yawk! Everything's strange here! Whaja expect!"

Olivia's frustration came from not only the fruitless results of their canvass, but also from her earlier blow up with Elliot. She regretted her harsh words, and wished desperately that she could take it all back.

She glanced at Munch, who was perched against the opposite wall of the elevator with his arms folded, looking like a patient vampire in his dark suit and sunglasses. Olivia kept expecting him to say those three dreaded little words: Are you ok? But Munch—bless him—always knew when to keep quiet, and he apparently sensed that this was one of those times when Olivia needed some space.

Besides, what the hell would she have said to him, anyway? 'Oh, I'm fine Munch. I just admitted to Elliot, my religiously conservative partner, that I had a lesbian relationship with Alex, that's all. How've you been?'

It wasn't that Olivia was ashamed of what she had with Alex Cabot, far from it. She cherished every moment they had together. They had always been the best of friends right up until the night of September 11, 2001, when their relationship had become something much more. That was when Olivia spent the night over at Alex's apartment to comfort her friend after the terrible, frightening day that New York City—along with the rest of the whole civilized world—had endured. But while Olivia had also sought some comfort and companionship from Alex that night, she initially had no idea just how far things would go.

Before she knew it, Olivia woke up in Alex's arms, in her bed, the following morning, and although it was the very first time in her life that she had ever slept with a woman, it somehow felt very natural to Olivia. And Alex proved to be a far better lover—a far better partner overall—than any of the men whom Olivia had previously been with. Their relationship, which they'd kept intensely private, had been sheer bliss over the next few years, and they had even seriously considered finally coming out and telling everybody—until Alex was forced to go into hiding, in fear for her life, thanks to those drug-dealing scumbags.

When Alex was originally whisked away in Witness Protection, it broke Olivia's heart. She had never been with another woman since Alex—hell, the only dates she'd had since Alex left were with men, and they were merely half-hearted attempts at having some kind of a social life on her part. In the back of her mind, Olivia always had a deeply buried fear that if she started another relationship she would be somehow betraying Alex, whom she always considered to be her one true love.

Olivia had often thought she had been acting childish, that she should really move on. Yet when Alex recently came back, to testify against the drug cartel assassin who had tried to kill her, they spent some time alone together in a safe house just before the trial. Alex confessed that she had also tried to move on with her romantic life, and failed miserably, as well. That was when Olivia realized that they were still kindred spirits, still soul mates, even while separated by thousands of miles.

Even though it was against the rules, they slept together that night. 'I broke a lot of rules that night,' Olivia thought, as she recalled how she gave Alex classified information on her would-be assassin that helped her to break him down in court.

When Alex disappeared back into hiding without even so much as a goodbye, Olivia was left hanging once more. While she knew Alex would have to go back in hiding, she just wanted one more private moment with her. It was agony having missed her once more without at least a proper goodbye. But recently things became even more complex when she met Eric, who appeared to be a great guy, and—

"Oh sweet Jesus!" Olivia cried. "Eric!"

"What!" Munch said, alarmed. They had just stepped out of the elevator and were walking through the lobby. He glanced around them in a panic, his hand on his holstered Glock. When Munch couldn't see anybody, he frantically asked, "Who the hell's Eric?"

"He's a friend! I was supposed to meet him"—Olivia stared in horror at her watch—"over two hours ago! Ohmigod! I completely forgot all about it!"

Elliot and Fin came running into the apartment lobby on full alert. "We were just outside when we heard a commotion in here," Elliot said. "What's up?"

"Just Olivia giving me a heart attack," Munch said as he leaned wearily up against the wall. He nodded at Fin and added, "You still got the ambulance on speed-dial? I may need it."

"Sorry, Munch," Olivia said as she dug out her cell phone and dialed Eric's number. When she got no response she let out a curse.

"No answer?" Elliot asked, looking concerned.

"I think he shut off his cell," Olivia said with dread. 'He's pissed at me,' Olivia dismally thought. 'Eric's probably just another asshole who can't handle me being a cop…just as well, I suppose. Better to find out now.'

"Listen, we've still got a couple more buildings on this block to canvass," Elliot said, "but since it's getting late, Fin and I were about to suggest we call it a night. We'll come back early tomorrow and finish it up then. I gotta leave soon, anyway. I'vegot protection duty for Casey tonight."

"Yeah," Fin said to Olivia. "So why don't you go and patch things up with Romeo?"

Olivia was about to automatically tell him that Eric was just a friend. But, realizing how her hopes had suddenly shot up once she heard Elliot's suggestion, Olivia wasn't sure if even she believed that now. She really liked Eric. She wasn't sure how he would fit in her life, but Olivia knew she wanted Eric to be involved in her life nonetheless. "You sure?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah. C'mon, I'll walk you out."

"If lover boy gives you any lip about being late, you just give him a good bitch slapping, all right?" Fin told her.

"And if that doesn't work, you could always scare the living crap out of him," Munch chimed in. "God knows that worked very well with me just now."

"If I need backup, I'll be sure to call you guys," Olivia jokingly said, as she and Elliot left the lobby.

Once they were alone outside, Elliot said, "Take the car. I'll catch a ride with Munch and Fin. Just please make sure you bring our car back to the One-Six, though, ok?"

"Yeah, of course," Olivia quickly agreed. "I'll just swing by Eric's place and check in on him. I won't stay. And hey, El…about before…."

Elliot reached out and gently grabbed her shoulder just below the neck. He only gave her the slightest of squeezes, yet to Olivia this spoke volumes. It was his silent way of assuring her that everything was all right between them.

"What I said before, about you being lucky to have me as a partner," Olivia whispered. "I was wrong, Elliot: I'm the lucky one."

Elliot smiled at her. "I guess we're both lucky."

"See you tomorrow," Olivia said, as she got into the car. She started the engine and drove down the street.

Olivia was just several blocks away from Eric's apartment, sitting in traffic caused by a red light, when her cell phone rang. She quickly dug it out without checking the screen, expecting it to be Eric. "Hello?"

"Olivia?" It was the scared, trembling voice of a small child. "Olivia, are you there?"

Olivia sat back in the driver's seat, as her eyes grew wide with shock. She instantly recognized the voice. She had spent the better part of a week bonding with this girl.

It was young Lilly Beauchamp.

"Lilly?" Olivia said, trying to keep her voice calm. "Lilly, what's wrong? Where are you?"

"I'm home. Oh, Olivia, please help me!" Lilly cried, her voice breaking down into wracking sobs. "Please, please come over here, right now! I need you right—"

The call had abruptly been cut off.

"LILLY!" Olivia screamed into the cell. She frantically redialed; only to have the cell phone tell her that phone service for that particular number was no longer available.

"Oh my God," Olivia whispered, as she gazed out at the night beyond the windows of the car. Somewhere in that stark cold blackness, a nine-year-old girl was in mortal danger at this very moment, and Olivia might very well be her only hope.

**To Be Continued...**


	7. Protecting Casey & Saving Lilly

Elliot Stabler had a feeling of dread when he reported to the safe house that night. He held his hand over the door and hesitated, reluctant to actually knock. Then he gritted his teeth and knocked firmly on the door. 'Stop acting like a moron,' he told himself. 'You've got a job to do, so get it done.'

The problem was that he had a chance to think about the things that Olivia told him, about his behavior with Casey lately, and Elliot came to the conclusion that maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea to be alone with her tonight, but he was already assigned to be her protection for the evening.

Patrolman Lawrence Kolinsky opened the door with a surprised look on his face. "Elliot. You're an hour early."

"Yeah, I finished up early at the precinct, so I figured I'd just come straight over."

"Ms. Novak, it's Detective Stabler," Kolinsky called inside, as he held the door open for him. "Hey, you mind if I take off early, Elliot?"

"Not at all. Give my love to Marie."

"Will do," Kolinsky said, as he grabbed his uniform jacket. "Goodnight, Ms. Novak!" When there was no response, he added, "She's in the bedroom, exercising. She can't hear me."

"I'll check on her," Elliot promised. "Take it easy, Larry."

After Larry left, Elliot placed the bag containing his dinner—a roast beef sandwich on rye with the trimmings—on the kitchen table. He removed his suit jacket and slung it over the back of the chair, and then he rolled up his sleeves.

"Casey!" he called. "You all right?"

When he received no answer, Elliot thought, 'Better check in on her.'

He strode over to the bedroom and knocked hard on the door. "Casey?"

"Yeah Larry!" she called from behind the door. "Just a sec!"

"It's not Lar—" Elliot started to say, just as she opened the door.

Casey stood before him, barefoot, clad in sweat pants and a tank top with a towel tossed over her bare shoulders. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her skin was covered with a layer of sweat, and she was still the most gorgeous sight Elliot Stabler had seen all day.

When Casey first saw him, she was so startled that she recoiled backwards, which was a scene that was almost comical. "Elliot, you're early!"

She said that as if it were an accusation, causing Elliot to almost apologize until he stopped himself. "Uh, yeah, I got off…I mean, I left work early. I didn't mean to disturb your workout. I just wanted to make sure you weren't being held hostage in there or something."

"No problem," Casey replied. She absently fingered the bandages on the side of her face. "How's the investigation going?"

Elliot caught himself staring at Casey's bare midriff, and it took everything he had to drag his glance back up to her face. "It took an interesting turn today. I brought some food. If you wanna grab a seat, I'll be glad to fill you in on the details."

"Sure, just let me get changed, first."

"Ok." Elliot went back out to the kitchen, where he sat down at the table and set out his dinner. He shook his head at his initial clumsiness with Casey. 'Oh yeah, real slick Elliot,' he chided himself. 'Just try and keep it together from now on.'

When Casey joined him at the table, she was still barefoot, but now clad in jeans with a softball jersey that read 'Sex Crimes' across the chest. She took a seat across from him, tucking one leg underneath her, and asked, "So what happened?"

Elliot told her about Goren's theory in-between bites of his sandwich. When he was finished, Casey looked stunned. "The sniper might have been after you?" she said with amazement. "Hey maybe we should switch. Give me your gun and I'll watch over you tonight."

Elliot grinned broadly at that. "That's funny."

"Yeah, the thought of me with a gun is pretty funny," Casey muttered, self-depreciatory. Then she perked up. "Hey, I guess this means I won't have to stay in protection for much longer?"

"Sorry, but until we know for sure, you're staying put," Elliot said. He noticed she stared intently at his meal. "You want half of my sandwich?"

Casey shook her head as she made a disgusted face. "That sandwich looks very…meaty."

"Didn't know you were a vegetarian."

"I wasn't…until I saw that sandwich. Looks like you've got an entire cow stuffed in there. A really badly sliced up cow."

He rolled the remainder of the sandwich back up in its deli wrapping paper. "Ok, I'll stop."

Casey looked pained. "No, I'm sorry, Elliot. Please finish. Don't mind me. I'm just going nuts being in here all day."

"That's understandable," he said.

"You know what the scary thing is?" she asked. "Even if I somehow get through this—"

"You will," he firmly told her.

"But even if I get all this behind me, it can still happen again, can it? I make enemies every single day, just by doing my job. I'll never truly be safe, will I?"

"Would you consider giving up being an ADA?" Elliot asked.

"No," she said with a sigh. "As aggravating as it can get, I still love the work too much."

Elliot slowly removed his gun and placed it on the table in front of Casey. "Then you should think about getting yourself one of these."

"Uh, I don't think so," Casey replied, as she shied away from the Glock. "I don't like guns."

"Neither do I," Elliot said. "But they serve their purpose. And in your case, having one might help keep you alive. You ever handle a gun before?"

Casey sat with her hands clasped in her lap, staring timidly at the Glock on the table as though it were about to attack her. "I've held them up in court as evidence," she said. "But I've never actually used one."

"It's high time you did. C'mon," Elliot said, as he got up from the table. He unloaded the Glock by pulling the clip of bullets out from the bottom of the handle. He then checked the chamber to make sure it was completely empty, and then he held the gun out to her. "Here."

"It's not gonna go off?" Casey nervously asked.

"No, it's unloaded," he told her. "You can even pull the trigger and nothing will happen."

"What's the point of this, Elliot?" she asked uneasily.

"Just aim with it," he gently said. "Get a feel for it. That's all."

Letting out a deep breath, Casey stood up and took the gun from his hand.

"Hold it with both hands," he instructed. "Aim for that vase on the shelf; pretend that's the son of a bitch who shot at us."

When she did what he said, Elliot stood right behind her and lifted her arms slightly. He caught a whiff of a sweet fragrance that contained a hint of strawberries, and realized that it came from her hair, which was very close to his face. In fact, Casey was so close to him that she practically stood on his shoes, her back pressing up against his stomach. He glanced down at her long, slender arms, which were well toned in a sleek, coltish way from the rigorous exercise she did. He abruptly wanted to run his hands up her arms, and….

'Whoa Nellie!' he thought. 'Maybe this was a bad idea. Stay focused, Elliot!'

Casey continued to hold the gun out rigidly before her.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"It feels goddamn great," she said in a low whisper. Casey abruptly placed the gun down on the table as she spun around and leaned into Elliot's body, running her hands up his muscular arms.

"Hey, hey, ok…wait a sec," Elliot said uneasily.

"Elliot, please," Casey said, her hands rubbing his shoulders. "Just listen to me. I've wanted to be with you for the past several weeks now, and I was too damn afraid to ask. And you know what? I'm so sick of being afraid. I mean let's face it, there's somebody out there gunning for us right now, and either one of us could get killed tomorrow. So why not enjoy ourselves? Why the hell not?"

As much as he wanted her, Elliot still thought of Kathy. Technically, they were only separated, not divorced. They were still legally man and wife, even though they no longer lived together—so he would basically be committing a sin right now, wouldn't he? And at the back of his mind, Elliot always held out hope that he would somehow get back together with his wife. But then, it had been Kathy's choice to leave him. And she was actively pursuing a formal divorce. But what he considered doing right now was still a sin in the eyes of the church….

"Do you hate me?" Casey suddenly asked.

"What? No, of course not!"

"You find me attractive?"

"Oh God, yes," he admitted. "Casey, you're gorgeous!"

Her hands were now clasped together behind his neck, her face right in front of his. "Then what the hell are you waiting for, Elliot?"

"Nothing," he whispered. He gently caressed her face with his hands and then kissed her passionately.

'Kathy, wherever you are, you'll always have a place in my heart as the mother of my children,' Elliot thought as he watched Casey slowly undo his tie. 'And I'm gonna have a helluva story to tell the priest next time in confession!'

**Beauchamp Residence. West 92nd Street. Friday April 24.**

Olivia pulled the unmarked squad car up in front of the Beauchamp's brownstone, with the emergency light on the dashboard flashing. She killed the siren, and pulled her gun from its holster the moment she got out of the car. The house appeared dark and empty.

'Please let me be on time,' Olivia thought, as she ran up the brownstone steps, taking two at a time. 'Please, God, if nothing else, let Lilly be safe!'

No sooner did she reach the front doors than they abruptly swung open. Olivia's police training forced her to stop short, as she aimed her Glock at whatever potential threat was coming out to greet her.

It was Lilly. The pajama-clad girl, whose large brown eyes were filled with tears, smiled gratefully at her and said, "Olivia! I knew you'd come!"

Olivia let out a sigh of relief as she holstered her gun. She bent down and held out her arms. "Come here, sweetie."

One of Lilly's twin dark brown ponytails smacked Olivia in the face as the girl hugged her tightly. Olivia then broke the embrace and looked Lilly over for any signs that she had been harmed. She appeared to be all right. "What happened, Lilly?"

Before Lilly could answer, there was a loud crashing sound from within the house, followed by a woman who sounded as if she were screaming her head off.

"Mom's real mad," Lilly said with genuine awe in her voice.

'Linda is the one making this racket?' Olivia thought, taken aback. She had assumed that Charles Beauchamp was the cause of all of this, that he finally flew off the handle and tried something with his stepdaughter. "Lilly, who is in the house?"

"Just mommy and him." She pronounced the last word as if it were a curse. Lilly never cared for her stepfather, and even refused to refer to him as daddy. "He got mad at me when I found his secret place, with the box full of videotapes, and he tried to hurt me, but mommy stopped him."

As Lily spoke, Olivia stripped off her jacket and put it on the girl. She glanced at the street when a squad car pulled up. Olivia had called for back up before she arrived. Two uniformed officers joined them on the steps. They were both men, one looked like a green rookie in his early twenties while his partner was a grizzled veteran in his fifties with steel gray hair that was shaved close to his head. "Benson, with the SVU out of the One-Six."

"Carlsen, Two-Seven," the veteran introduced himself, "and Lee, my partner. You know if there are any weapons inside, Detective?"

Just then they all flinched when they heard a burst of gunfire from within the house.

"That answers your question?" Olivia asked, as she pulled out her gun once more. "We gotta get in there. Can one of you stay with her?"

"Yeah," Carlsen said grimly, as he pulled out his own gun. He turned to his partner and said, "Stay with the kid. Wait out here for the others to arrive and apprise them of our situation."

"Got it," Lee said with a nod. He took hold of Lilly's hand as Olivia and Carlsen entered the brownstone.

They both paused in the foyer, their guns held out, as they listened to a man speaking rapidly. His voice sounded faint, as if he were on the next floor.

Olivia turned to Carlsen and mouthed the word: "Upstairs."

Carlsen nodded, and they both went slowly and cautiously up the steps, with Olivia in the lead. Once they reached the second floor, Olivia slowly followed the sounds of a loud argument until she reached the bedroom door. She carefully peered around the corner of the doorway, her gun at the ready, and finally saw Charles and Linda Beauchamp.

Charles sat on the floor of the bedroom, holdings his hands up, with Linda standing over him. She held a Beretta handgun to his head. They were both clad in their pajamas.

"I swear to God, Linda," Charles said, "No matter what you may have thought you saw, I never, ever did those things!"

"YOU LYING BASTARD!" Linda screamed. "I ought to kill you right now!"

"Linda!" Olivia called from the doorway. "It's Detective Olivia Benson."

"Is Lilly with you?" Linda asked.

"She's outside," Olivia replied. "She's safe."

"Good, then she won't watch me blow this bastard's brains all over the floor!" Linda cried, as she pressed the gun right up against Charles' temple.

"Detective Benson, help me!" Charles screamed shrilly.

'I ought to let her put you our of our misery, you son of a bitch,' Olivia angrily thought, as she holstered her weapon, 'but Lilly needs a mother.' She glanced over at Carlsen and said, "Put your gun away."

"Detective…." Carlsen said, in a tone that indicated he didn't think that was a very good idea.

"Put your gun away," Olivia firmly ordered. "Now."

"Panty police," Carlsen muttered derisively, as he very reluctantly holstered his weapon.

"Linda," Olivia called into the room. "Put the gun down."

"I will," Linda said. "Right after I blow this rat bastard's head off."

"Linda, listen to me," Olivia said, keeping her voice calm. "He's not worth it."

"Upstairs, in the attic, you'll find a hiding place behind the closet wall," Linda said. "In there, Lilly found a box filled with videotapes. She showed it to me before, and when I watched some of those tapes…." She shook her head in disgust. "I believed you, Charles! I defended you against everybody, and you were just using me all along! Everything that everybody kept telling me about you was true—you ARE a monster! And I was your patsy!"

'Oh my God,' Olivia thought. 'Casey was right all along: Linda really was in the dark about her husband's rapes after all.'

Olivia slowly stepped into the room and, holding out her hands, carefully walked up to the distraught woman. "Linda, let us arrest Charles, ok? What you're doing now, this isn't the way to handle this."

Linda let out a sob as the gun wavered in her hand.

"Linda, if nothing else, think about Lilly," Olivia said softly. "If you kill this piece of shit, Lilly will be safe from him, but she'll also lose her mother in the process. Let us have him, along with the tapes, and we'll make certain he's put away for the rest of his miserable life. And you and Lilly can move on with your own lives."

"Oh my God," Linda said with a deep exhale of breath. She suddenly handed the gun to Olivia, who quickly took it from her.

Carlsen came in with his gun drawn, but it was now aimed at Charles, who anxiously got off the floor and sat down on the bed. Several more police officers also flowed into the bedroom; among them were Captain Cragen and Fin.

Cragen turned to Fin and said, "Get upstairs and secure those tapes."

"I'm on it," Fin said with a nod.

Olivia stood holding up Linda, who had practically collapsed into her arms. "How long were you here, Cap?"

"Long enough to watch you calmly defuse the situation," Cragen said. "Good work."

"He attacked Lilly," Linda angrily told Cragen, "because she found his little stash of rape tapes!"

"I just want everybody to know," Charles Beauchamp said, regaining his composure, "that my wife has been under a great deal of stress lately, and that whatever she says can't be trusted."

"I'm no longer your goddamn wife, you bastard!" Linda cried. "I'm divorcing you first chance I get!"

Olivia quickly hustled Linda out of the bedroom and into the waiting arms of a paramedic. But before she left with the paramedic, Linda glanced nervously at Olivia. "Can I see Lilly?"

"At the stationhouse," Olivia assured her. "It will be all right, Linda."

Cragen came out of the bedroom and joined Olivia in the hallway. He waited until Linda left before he said, "Beauchamp's not wasting any time in ripping apart Linda's character. He's already making her out to be addicted to prescription drugs and prone to violence."

"That won't matter," Olivia told him. "His character's now in the toilet thanks to these tapes. Plus, we've got him for attacking Lilly—something which both Linda and Lilly will testify to."

Fin came back down from the attic. "CSU is upstairs now, dusting the place for prints. The box of tapes is up there and secured." He shook his head with disgust. "I got a look at the tape that Linda saw—it was still in the VCR—and after seeing that, I gotta say I don't blame her for going off the deep end. The bastard recorded himself raping his victims, Cap. And there are at least fifty tapes in that box up there. There are far more victims than we originally thought."

"Well, at least we've now finally got the evidence we need to nail the son of a bitch right to the wall," Cragen said. "This case has been a tough one for you, Olivia. You want to do the honors of reading Beauchamp his rights?"

Olivia's cell phone began to ring right at that moment. "Thanks, Cap. But I better get this."

Cragen strode into the bedroom and began reciting Charles Beauchamp his Miranda Rights. Olivia at least had the pleasure of watching the growing look of horror on Beauchamp's face as Carlsen was handcuffing him.

Olivia then had her own look of horror when she saw who was calling on her cell phone's ID screen.

"What's wrong?" Fin asked.

"It's Eric," Olivia said, as she grimly accepted the call. Fin melted away, leaving her some privacy as she brought the phone to her ear. "Eric?"

"Yeah, hey," he said. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, touched by his concern. "Listen, I'm so sorry. Something came up. I tried calling you before but couldn't get any answer on your cell."

"Yeah, I always switch my cell phone off when I'm home," he said. "You should have called the landline."

"I should have. I guess that didn't occur to me. It's been very crazy here. Again, I'm really sorry."

"No problem," he replied. "I understand."

Olivia took a deep breath and braced herself for what she had to say next. "We gotta take everybody down to the precinct, and God only knows how long that's gonna take. It's safe to say that I'm not gonna be able to see you at all tonight, Eric."

"Ok. I understand."

Olivia shook her head. "I'm really, really sorry about all of this."

"Hey, Liv," Eric said gently, "I understand, really. It's all right, hon. Ok?"

She was very pleasantly surprised to hear that. "I swear you have the patience of a saint, Eric. Saint Eric, there's a good name for you."

He chuckled softly. "Listen, why don't we get together tomorrow night? Barring any emergencies, you can come over to my place. I'll make dinner, and we'll watch one of my favorite movies. Plus," he added, "there's something that I want to show you."

"Oh, and what would that be?" Olivia asked, intrigued.

"You'll just have to come over and see for yourself," he said cryptically. "But it's something that I've been meaning to show you for a long time, now. So, do we have a date?"

"Oh, yeah, sure thing," Olivia said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

As she put her cell phone away, Charles Beauchamp was being led out of the bedroom in handcuffs. He gave Olivia an impervious gaze as he muttered, "You're making a very big mistake, Detective Benson."

"Tell it to your bunkmate at Rikers," Olivia shot back. "I'm sure he'll give you all the attention you need."

Several of the police officers—including Carlsen—burst into a round of hearty laughter at that. Even Cragen couldn't help but chuckle slightly as he followed the cops who escorted Beauchamp down the steps.

Fin leaned in close to Olivia. "So how are things with lover boy?"

"Great," Olivia replied, the tone of her voice still sounding surprised. "He says he understands and that we're on again for tomorrow night."

Fin shook his head. "Aw, that's it: you gotta marry him."

Olivia gave him a shocked look. "What are you, my match maker?"

"I'm just sayin' y'know? The dude's not a cop and yet he still understands our lifestyle? That sounds like a keeper to me, Liv."

'Eric does sound like a great guy,' Olivia thought, as they descended the steps. 'If only he wasn't so damn mysterious! Just what the hell is it that he's gonna show me tomorrow?'

**To Be Continued...**


	8. Chase

**Author's Note: As always, I'd like to thank those of you who took the time to write a review. Please keep 'em coming. **

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Eight: Chase**

Olivia let out an annoyed sigh as she watched Elliot stifle yet another yawn. They spent the morning finishing the canvass of Verges' neighbors, and as expected, nobody saw or heard anything. Munch and Fin had already headed back to their car, which was parked in the opposite direction further down the street from where Olivia and Elliot's squad car was parked.

"Excuse me, Liv," Elliot said, just before another protracted yawn. "It's not the company."

"I hope not," she said. "What's with you lately? This is the second day in a row that you've been dead on your feet."

"Didn't get much sleep last night," he said irritably. "That's all."

This ticked Olivia off to no end; she spent the better part of the evening last night at the stationhouse sorting through the Beauchamp case, booking that raping bastard, and then driving Lilly and her grandmother over to the latter's house. She didn't get home until just after three in the morning, and was barely able to get a few hours sleep before getting up in time to do this early morning canvass. If anybody should be yawning his or her head off, it should be her. Olivia knew Elliot was on protection duty last night, watching Casey, and that wasn't normally a strenuous job. What the hell could he have been doing to get himself so tired?

'Oh sweet Jesus,' Olivia thought, as a very scary notion came to her. "Did anything happen last night?"

"Nah, it was quiet," Elliot said. "We had no trouble."

Olivia noticed the sheepish look on his face, and the way he avoided her eyes. She stopped walking and stood in front of him. "Good Christ, Elliot, you slept with her, didn't you?"

"Liv, do me a favor, and don't say the Lord's name in vain, ok?" Elliot said uneasily.

"Oh shit, now I _know_ you slept with her, because you're acting like a guilty little altar boy!" Olivia said with a broad smile.

Elliot glanced up at the sky with an annoyed expression. Then he stared right at her and said, "Yeah. Casey and I…we, uh, got together last night. Ok? Are you happy?"

"The question is are you happy?" Olivia asked. "Because you sure don't look it right now."

"It was great," he told her. "I mean that sincerely. And I can't wait to see Casey again. But the fact remains that I broke a lot of rules last night, both morally and legally."

Olivia stared at him as if he were insane. "The hell you talking about?"

"Technically, in the eyes of the Church, I'm still a married man, Liv."

"Oh, please, Elliot," she said with a wave of her hand. Olivia had as much use for the Church as a fish did for a hula-hoop. "Don't torture yourself like this. You may not be divorced, yet, but you are separated. And Kathy was the one who left, remember?"

Elliot shook his head. "Still, I screwed up with the professional side of it. I slept with somebody whom I was supposed to be protecting."

Olivia flashed him a broad grin and said, "Join the club."

"What do you mean?" he asked, giving her a suspicious look.

"Remember when Alex came back? When she was in the safe house before the trial?"

Elliot's eyes grew very wide just then. "You mean you—"

"Yes, Elliot, we made love…repeatedly." She chuckled slightly. "We make quite a pair, don't we? Tag teaming with the ADAs?"

Elliot stared at her solemnly. "Why did you keep that from me?"

"It wasn't just you, Elliot," she said. "We kept it from everybody."

"Yeah, but you still could have told me, Liv. I'm your partner. Didn't you think I would understand?"

Olivia uneasily bit her lower lip. The fact was that he had a point. But before she could respond, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention, and when Olivia glanced across the street, what she saw there made her blood run cold.

A man stood there, close by the entranceway to an alley. He wore jeans with a hooded jacket. The hood was pulled up over his head, hiding his face, reducing it to a pool of icy blackness that glared right at her. Although it had been unseasonably chilly this past week, it still wasn't cold enough to wear a hood. The gut instinct that Olivia had cultivated over the years as a detective was now screaming at her that this guy, whoever he was, was bad news.

"What is it?" Elliot asked, picking up on her abrupt change of mood. He stood with his back towards the man.

"There's a guy across the street, with a hood," Olivia told him in a whisper. "He's staring right at us."

Elliot abruptly turned around and glared at the man. When he did this, the hooded man took a few steps backward.

'He's gonna run,' Olivia thought with dread. She realized why he stood in front of the alleyway: because that was his pre-planned escape route. That alley cut through the block to the next street. A chill swept through her entire body as Olivia thought: 'Is that the sniper?'

Elliot flicked the side of his jacket back, so that his hand had easy access to the holstered gun on his hip. Then he crossed the street and said, in his best cheerful manner, "Excuse me, sir! I was wondering if we might have a word with you!"

With that, the hooded man bolted into the alleyway.

"HE'S RUNNING!" Elliot shouted, as he ran full bore after the hooded man.

Olivia paused in the middle of the street when Munch and Fin's car pulled up short in front of her. They both got out, their guns drawn, until Olivia waved them away. "No, stay with the car! This alley cuts through to the next street. Drive over to Varrick and cut him off!"

"Got it!" Fin said, as he and Munch both got back into their car.

Olivia pulled her gun out and raced after Elliot, who was already halfway through the alleyway, which opened into a courtyard. Elliot disappeared around a corner, and Olivia followed him. Yet when Olivia entered the courtyard a moment later, she was stunned to see that there was a dead end ahead of her. She was also alone. Elliot obviously had ran ahead of her, but to where?

The courtyard was a large dreary gray space that was made of bricks and concrete. There were no windows in the walls, but there were two doors off to the side. Elliot had to have chased the hooded man through one of those doors, but which one?

She ran up to the doors, and peered inside the one that had been left ajar. There was nothing but blackness within, with the brightly lit outline of a doorway at the far end. That had to be the exit to Varrick Street.

But there was a lot of darkness between her and the street.

Olivia pulled out her cell phone and called Elliot.

He answered after the first ring. "Liv, where are you?"

"I got turned around in the alleyway, but I've found my way out," Liv replied, as she walked through the doorway.

"I thought you went with Munch and Fin," Elliot said.

"I'll be with you in just a sec," Olivia said, her voice echoing in the vast, dark room that she strode through. "Where are you?"

"I'm on Varrick and I lost him," Elliot said.

Olivia ceased walking. "You lost him?"

"Yeah. I lost sight of him even before I came out of the building. Did he double back towards you?"

Olivia stared wide-eyed around her in the darkness. With growing horror, it suddenly dawned on her that the hooded man might have lost Elliot by hiding somewhere in here, allowing Elliot to run right past him.

And now Olivia was here alone with him.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a noise within the darkness. It had been the unmistakable sound of movement. "El," she whispered into the phone, "I'm still in the building, between the court and the street, and I could really use back up right now."

"I'm coming, Liv! Hold on!"

Holding her Glock out before her with one hand, Olivia tried to spot any obvious hiding places, but it was too dark. The only illumination came from the doorways at both ends of the room. The remaining two thirds of the room was shrouded in pitch-blackness.

'Flashlight, I need the flashlight,' she thought, as she dug into her jacket pocket. 'No, it's in the other damn pocket…'

"Shit," Olivia muttered, as she accidentally dropped the cell phone. It clattered to the floor, lost in the shadows. Well, at least she now had a free hand to dig for the flashlight. As she frantically dug in the other pocket, Olivia glanced up and saw a ghostly shape standing in the dimness before her.

She aimed her gun right at the figure, who stood as still as a statue in the gloom. "NYPD!" she shouted. "Come out into the light!"

Yet the figure remained where he was, standing stock-still with his arms at his sides.

"I'm a police officer with the NYPD," Olivia warned the ghostly figure, "and I have a gun aimed right at you! Come out where I can see you with your hands up NOW!"

But the eerie figure did not heed her command; he stayed well within the shadows.

'Where's that frigging flashlight!' Olivia thought, fighting off the frenzied panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She found the small palm-sized flashlight and brought it up beside her gun like they taught her at the police academy.

She shone the light on the figure, expecting to see the hooded man, the sniper, aiming an AR-15 back at her. Instead, Olivia only saw a mannequin, a tailor's dummy that was used for alterations. Yet Olivia didn't fully relax until she made a full sweep of the room with her gun and flashlight. She found a cat by some trashcans—that was the source of the sound she'd heard before. It was only until she was confident that the room was completely clear that Olivia let out a heavy sigh. She retrieved her cell phone from the concrete floor. As she expected, it was damaged.

She walked towards the doorway leading to the street, and received still another shock when a shadowy figure abruptly appeared, blocking her exit.

The figure suddenly held up his hands and said, "Liv, it's me, El!"

"Oh God," Olivia moaned. She holstered her gun and put the flashlight away. "The room's clear," she told him, her voice shaky. "I checked it."

Once she got outside, Olivia wearily leaned up against the wall. Elliot reached out and affectionately held her shoulder. "You all right?" he asked with concern. "You look very pale."

Olivia smiled weakly at the man who was her partner, her big brother, and her closest friend all rolled into one. "I nearly blew away a mannequin in there. I think I'm getting too old for this shit, El."

"Bullshit," Elliot said softly but firmly as he gently held the side of her face. "Your best years are ahead of you. You're still in your prime and still in the game. You hear me?"

She nodded. He just made her feel much better. "Thanks."

He shrugged as he released her. "I'm just saying what's true."

The squad car belonging to Munch and Fin came to a halt by the curb. They got out and ran over. "Sorry we got hung up," Munch said. "There was a goddamn truck double parked down the street. He finally moved only after we threatened to arrest him."

"What happened?" Fin asked her, looking worried. "You ok?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Olivia said, feeling more like her old self again. "I thought I was trapped in the deep dark dungeon with our sniper, but it turned out to be a frigging mannequin. I'm such a moron…"

"Don't blame yourself," Munch said.

"Yeah," Fin added. "We've all been there. The same thing happened to Munch one time. We were on a stake out, and he thought—"

"Excuse me," Munch angrily turned to his partner. "But didn't we agree to forget about that little incident?"

"Oh, yeah, right." Fin leaned over to Olivia and conspiratorially whispered, "Tell ya later."

Elliot stared out at the street with his hands on his hips. "He's probably long gone by now," he said with disgust.

"He might not even have been the sniper," Munch said.

"You mean we've been running around like the Keystone Cops after some jerk off who was rubbernecking the crime scene?" Elliot said derisively. "Thanks, Munch, that makes me feel MUCH better!"

Olivia let out another weary sigh, still feeling like an idiot for getting all worked up over a dummy. 'I'm the dummy,' she glumly thought.

She gazed at a group of schoolgirls walking down the block. Dressed in their private school uniforms, with their school bags flung over their shoulders, they laughed and chatted non-stop about something, probably boys. Olivia envied them; their life seemed so simple, so carefree. She almost wished she could ditch this cop gig and join them.

But she was a cop, and Olivia realized she'd better quit her daydreaming and get back to work.

However she couldn't take her eyes off of those schoolgirls for some reason. Even as she walked over to the guys, Olivia kept staring at the girls. There was something…off about them.

Then she saw it.

There were four schoolgirls, and yet when she glanced at the ground, Olivia saw five pairs of feet.

'Somebody's walking in front of them,' she realized, 'and he's keeping his head down.' That was why the girls were laughing; they were pointing and gesturing at the funny man who walked in a crouch in front of them.

"You son of a bitch," she said aloud. "There you are!"

"What?" Elliot asked.

She pointed at the schoolgirls. "He's there! Walking in front of those girls, with his head down. He's using them as cover."

And then, in the flash of an instant, she saw him. The hooded man darted out into view from behind the girls, just long enough to dash into a subway entrance.

"EL!" Olivia cried, pulling out her gun.

"I saw him!" Elliot shouted. "Let's go!"

"I'll bring the car and meet you there!" Munch said, running towards the squad car.

One of the schoolgirls glanced back, saw two men and one woman—all of whom toting guns—coming right at her, and she let out a wild shriek of terror. Her classmates turned, also saw Olivia, Elliot and Fin bearing down on them, and promptly started to scream their little heads off as well.

"POLICE!" Fin shouted at them. "Get out of the way!"

"It was her idea to cut class!" one of the schoolgirls cried, pointing frantically at her wide-eyed friend, as the cops ran past them.

"We won't do it ever again!" her friend whined. "We'll go back right now!"

Once they hit the subway entrance, Elliot pulled out his detective shield and held it up to the mass of commuters on the steps. "NYPD! Let us through, please!"

"Police emergency!" Olivia added, holding up her badge as well. "Make way!"

There was a lot of grumbling from the massive crowd of commuters, yet they still created a narrow pathway for the detectives to descend the subway steps. As they slowly went down each step, Olivia—as well as Elliot and Fin—carefully looked at each and every person, making sure the hooded man wasn't among them. He wasn't.

When they hit the subway platform, Olivia was hit by the overpowering, oddly dusty smell of the subway trains. One of them was already taking on passengers, its doors closing just after one more man managed to get on board.

It was a man wearing a hood.

"Dammit!" Olivia cried, as she watched the train pull out of the subway station. "There he goes!"

"He's southbound," Elliot told her and Fin. "What's the next stop?"

Olivia glanced at a map above the token booth. "The next stop's Canal Street!"

Olivia pulled out her police dispatch radio and called in their chase, including a description of the suspect. The dispatch operator confirmed that the Transit Police at the next subway stop would hold the train and its passengers for them.

They ran back to the subway steps, which Munch had just descended. He stopped and stared at the three of them in puzzlement.

"He's on a train, southbound, towards Canal Street," Fin told him. "Get your bony ass back upstairs, son!"

"Oy vey," Munch muttered, as he turned around and started climbing up the very same stairs he came down.

Once they arrived back on the street, the quartet of detectives pushed through the crowds as they ran for the Crown-Victoria squad car that Munch had parked right outside the subway entrance. He left the red emergency light flashing on the dashboard.

Olivia overheard a young woman in the crowd shout: "This is so cool!"

"Yeah, really!" her friend agreed. "Just like on CSI!"

Olivia and Elliot got into the back seat of the squad car. Fin was behind the wheel. As Fin started up the car, Munch anxiously said, "Try not to get us killed, all right?"

"Aw, you know you're always safe with me, baby," Fin growled, as he stomped his foot down on the gas. This caused the car to burn rubber as it shot down the street like a missile.

"You hear that broad? CSI!" Munch ranted. "You'd think if these people want a good mystery, they'd read some Dashiell Hammett, or Robert Parker, or Patricia Cornwell. But no, thanks to this over-saturated TV culture of ours, everybody now thinks that Hammett's Sam Spade is a blonde chick who works for the FBI! This growing illiteracy among our population is the result of a shadow conspiracy that consists of the FCC and the oil companies, who are trying to—"

"We're here!" Fin announced, as he brought the Crown-Victoria to a screeching halt.

"Thank God!" Olivia muttered, as she quickly got out of the car. Another minute listening to Munch and she would have shot him.

They descended the steps to the Canal Street station, and were met by a Transit Police sergeant. He strode up to Elliot and smiled as he stuck out his hand. "Detective Benson, I'm Sergeant Ducal, New York Transit Police. We've done what you've requested and held the train and its passengers."

"Thanks," Elliot said, shaking his hand. "But I'm Detective Stabler." He gestured to Olivia and added, "She's Detective Benson."

Ducal did a double take when he laid eyes on Olivia. "You're Benson? Funny, they didn't tell me you were a—"

"Yeah, whatever," Olivia said curtly, cutting him off. "Would you take us to the train, please?"

He gestured through an opened doorway beside the turnstiles. "Right through there."

When they walked onto the subway platform, Olivia saw several uniformed Transit Police officers herding a group of very vocal subway riders into a tight group by the train. "Every other exit is blocked off?" she asked Ducal.

"Yeah, and we've checked the restrooms, as well."

Olivia nodded. "Ok, we can start letting them through the turnstiles."

"Rodriguez!" Ducal called to a female Transit officer. "Start letting them through."

They stood by the turnstiles, watching the passengers from the train leave the platform in single file. They were mostly good-natured; some were even laughing and making jokes about "getting busted by Five-O." However, there was one haughty old woman who kept complaining about how these "police brutes" had made her late for her appointment at the beauty salon. "I have friends at Gracie Mansion," she told Olivia. "And they will hear from me about this!"

"We're very sorry, ma'am," Olivia replied, acting as contritely as she could, when the truth was she could really care less who this old bat claimed to know. Her performance appeared to satisfy the old woman, who nodded self-importantly at her. Sometimes the best thing to do with obnoxious people was to let them think they won a victory over you.

As the last of the crowd filtered through the turnstiles, under the watchful eye of the SVU detectives, Olivia shook her head in frustration.

"We lost him," she whispered in Elliot's ear.

"We've still got about a dozen guys left in line," he told her.

"Yeah, but look at them, they're all wearing suits, Elliot. Our guy wore jeans! Unless he had a change of clothes in his back pocket, I don't think he's in this group. "

When Elliot scanned the remainder of the male passengers, he nodded dismally. "Yeah, you're right."

Olivia noted a group of about thirty people standing by the train. When she asked who they were, Ducal told her they were passengers waiting to get on board the train. "You wanna look them over, too?" he asked.

Olivia shrugged. "Might as well."

However, the hooded man was not among the thirty who waited to board the train. As the SVU detectives scanned the crowd, one young man—who was a college student—started railing against the delay. "These are tactics better suited to a police state," he complained. "You should be out there trying to find Osama Bin Ladin, not bothering law-abiding citizens like us!"

"Amen, brother!" Munch said, giving the man a thumbs up sign. "Liberty only flourishes when we question authority. So keep the fire burning!"

The college student frowned at Munch in confusion, perhaps wondering why a detective who worked for The Man actually agreed with him.

The petite form of Rodriguez appeared in the doorway of the train. "Sarge! Detectives!" she called excitedly. "You need to see this!"

When the detectives entered the last car of the train, Rodriguez pointed at the door on the end, which was open. Olivia peered at the gaping bullet hole in the lock on the door. "It's been shot off!" she said.

"That's impossible," Ducal said. "We would have heard a gun going off in here."

"Not if he used a silencer," Elliot told him.

"Who the hell are you guys looking for?" Rodriguez asked. "James Bond?"

"The sniper who fired on the DA's office," Fin said.

Rodriguez's eyes grew wide with astonishment. "Holy shit…."

"Yep," Fin said, "that guy."

"I think it's safe to say now that it truly was the sniper that we've been chasing," Munch said.

"Yeah," Olivia said grimly, "and he got away."

**To Be Continued...**


	9. Aftermath

**Author's Note: Thanks, as always, for the reviews. They are much appreciated. Please keep 'em coming. **

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Nine: Aftermath**

CSU had been called to the subway station. Cragen was busy talking with the Transit Police officials near the train. The detectives waited by the benches on the platform while Ron Sanchez and his team worked the train.

Munch sat with Olivia on one of the benches, and Fin leaned up against a support column.

Elliot couldn't bring himself to sit. He felt too restless, too pissed off to relax right now, so he kept pacing back and forth. They had already looked at the security tapes and got nothing. The cameras at the Houston Street station caught the sniper getting on the train, but the bastard was too smart; he kept his head down, never allowing the cameras to get a shot of his face, which was well hidden by the hood he wore.

All Elliot kept thinking about was how he almost had the son of a bitch. At one point, when he was chasing the sniper down that alley, Elliot almost could have reached out and touched him. 'I should have just shot the bastard!' he angrily thought.

"Elliot," Olivia said wearily, "please sit down! You're making me tired just watching you."

"Sorry," he muttered. "It's just…" He shook his head, unable to find the words to express his rage.

"The bastard who shot at you and Casey was just within our grasp, and he got away," Fin said softly. "Believe me, I feel your frustration, man."

"We all do," Olivia told him.

"And we want him just as badly as you do," Munch added. He abruptly leaned forward. "You know, there's something that's been bothering me. Why did he go back to Verges' house today?"

When Elliot thought about it, he nodded. "That's a good question. What was he doing back there?"

"He forgot something?" Olivia suggested.

Fin shook his head. "CSU tore that place apart, if there was anything he left behind, they would have found it."

"Unless we're talking a hidden compartment," Olivia said. "That's how Beauchamp hid his rape tapes from CSU's first sweep of his house. We could be dealing with the same thing here."

But Fin didn't appear convinced. "I dunno…."

"Look, regardless of whatever theories we can come up with, the fact remains that he was back there today," Munch persisted. "Which means there might still be something at Verges' house that he wanted."

"Something really important," Elliot added. He glanced at Olivia and gave her a slight shrug. "Our car's still parked there, so we have to go back anyway."

"Might as well take another look at the place," she said in agreement.

Cragen came over with Sanchez, who had plastic bag in his hand. He held it up for the detectives to see. "A .45 caliber bullet," he said. "It was shot through the lock on the rear door of the last car. We dug this out of the ground in front of the train."

"What about fingerprints?" Elliot asked Sanchez.

"Got plenty of those," Sanchez said bleakly. "In fact we've got too many. That door's probably been touched about a hundred times since the train first rolled out of the yard this morning. I've got nothing you can use in court."

"All right, I guess we can wrap it up here," Cragen told Sanchez. "Thanks, Ron."

"Anytime." Sanchez walked back to the train.

When Elliot told Cragen about their plan to look over Verges' house once more, the Captain nodded. "But I want you guys back at the One-Six by two o'clock," he told them. "That's when Huang will be over. I asked him to give us a profile of this guy, so we can try and figure out who we're dealing with."

'A scumbag, that's who we're dealing with,' Elliot thought darkly. He wisely left that thought unspoken. "Good idea, Cap," he said, glancing at his watch. It was just after eleven now, that gave them just under three hours to search the place. "We'll see you back at the barn at two."

When they arrived at Verges' house, they initially dove into the search with gusto, turning the place upside-down in an effort to try and find some sort of a hidden compartment, or a safe in the wall—someplace out of the way where somebody like the sniper might have stored something important. The four of them broke up and searched separately.

Elliot was tossing a guest bedroom on the second floor when his cell phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen and saw the call was from Danny Laughlin, a fellow detective from the One-Six. Yet when he answered the call, the caller turned out to be Casey. Elliot realized that Danny was on protection duty for Casey today, and she must have asked to use his phone.

"Are you all right, Elliot?" she asked, sounding agitated.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Elliot said, startled. "What's wrong, Casey?"

"I saw you on the news. Well, I didn't see you personally on the news, but they mentioned a disturbance in the Canal Street subway station, and that there was gunfire involved, and that detectives from the SVU were also involved, and I couldn't help but wonder if you were…." She paused to catch her breath. "Oh God, Elliot, I thought you might have been hurt."

"You of all people should know better than to listen to the news," he told her. "Those TV buzzards always make everything out to be ten times worse than it actually is. That's how they get their ratings."

"I know, and I'm sorry. It's just that I'm cut out of the loop here, and the damn TV news is all I have."

"I realize that, hon. Look, the fact is that we were chasing him—the sniper." Elliot proceeded to give Casey a brief update on the events of the day. "And if anybody should apologize here, it's me," he added. "I had the bastard, Casey. In that alleyway, I was almost close enough tograb him, and yet I let him get away."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Elliot," she said. "If nothing else it sounds like you gave him the scare of his life, and I'm certainly glad to hear that. Look, I'll let you get back to your search." There was a hesitation, then she whispered: "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied. "I'll talk to you later."

As Elliot put his cell away, he glanced up and saw Olivia standing in the doorway. "Casey ok?" she asked.

He nodded. "She heard about us on the local news. They said there was gunfire in the subway, and we were involved."

"And those media slime balls made it out to be an underground massacre, right?" Olivia said with disgust. "What's Casey doing watching the local news, anyway? She should know better."

"Yeah, that's what I told her. But remember that Casey's in protective custody, Liv," he explained. "She's cut off from everybody and her everyday life."

"We thought we heard you guys in here," Fin said, as he and Munch entered the room. "You find anything?"

"Nah," Elliot replied, with a wave of his hand. "Nothing."

"Yeah, same here," Fin said dejectedly.

"I get the sinking feeling that if there was any kind of a hidden compartment here, we would have found it by now," Munch said.

"Look," Elliot said, with a glance at his watch, "it's almost one. Why don't we start back now? This'll give us an hour to stop off along the way and get something to eat."

"As long as it's not McDonalds," Munch said. "Because they're a part of the conspiracy with thebeef industryto promote—"

"Oh, Christ, here he goes again," Olivia moaned, as she buried her face in her hands. "Somebody please make him stop!"

"Yo, John," Fin said, grinning. "Give it a rest, huh?"

"Fine, fine," Munch said, miffed. "But that's just the problem with the people in this country. We've become too slack about accepting the truth because it's too uncomfortable. But sometimes a little discomfort is just what we need."

"Ok," Fin said as they all strode out the room, "so you can walk back to the One-Six. How's that for a little discomfort?"

"You just don't get it, do you?' Munch said.

"Oh, I get it, John," Fin retorted. "I just don't get you, man!"

Munch and Fin kept squabbling even as they walked out to the street.

After he and Olivia got into their car, Elliot started it up and then sat back. He grinned broadly as Munch and Fin drove by them in their squad car; they were still bickering at each other.

"Those two never give it a rest, do they?" he said, still smiling.

When there was no reply, he glanced at Olivia and saw that she was fast asleep in the passenger seat. It wasn't unusual for his partner to take catnaps in the car like this during the day—he even did it sometimes whenever she drove—and so Elliot let her sleep.

As Elliot drove, he recalled the days when Alex Cabot was their ADA. A tall thin blonde, Alex was often cool to the point of being icy. Yet she was a decent woman at heart who was a true warrior when it came to fighting for the SVU in court. Elliot thought back to all the times when he saw Olivia with Alex, and tried to look at those moments in a new light—basically, he tried to see what he had so blatantly missed: namely the fact that his partner and Alex were lovers. He always assumed that Olivia and Alex were just very close friends, like sisters. And just because two women were close didn't automatically make them lesbians.

This revelation about Olivia and Alex didn't bother Elliot in the slightest. While he was a devout Catholic,Elliot was also a human being who had been exposed to a great deal of the harsh side of life during his years as a cop. And he had come to realize, over the years, that people needed to take comfort in the arms of another, regardless of who they were, or what gender. People needed a little love, and he certainly understood that. Hell, that's exactly what he and Casey did last night.

Casey.

He missed her terribly, and it was great to at least hear her voice again. He still couldn't shake the disappointing feeling that he had let her down today. Elliot replayed the chase in the alleyway in his mind, and was aggravated to recall how close he was to the sniper. If only he had been faster, if only he had thrown something at the bastard, if only…if only...

'The next time I get that close to the bastard, I won't hesitate,' he swore to himself. 'I'll just shoot the scumbag dead.'

It suddenly occurred to Elliot that he wasn't scheduled for protection duty this evening. His heart sank as he realized he wouldn't be seeing Casey at all today.

'Oh boy, you've got it bad,' he thought with a shake of his head. He wondered if he and Casey were moving too fast. He had the terrifying thought of introducing her to his kids as his new girlfriend. But then he realized that his kids already knew Casey from her visits to the house for consultations with him on cases, and they all liked her well enough. But would they accept her as the new woman in their father's life?

'Let's just take this one day at a time,' he told himself. 'And for now, before I can even think of having any kind of normal life with Casey, we've still got a sniper to hunt down.'

When he parked the car at the precinct, Olivia was still sound asleep. Elliot very gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey sleeping beauty, up and at 'em!"

"Wait!" She awoke with a start. "Wait till he's aboard!"

He frowned at her. "Wait till who is aboard what?"

Removing her seat belt, Olivia sat up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "Um…nothing."

"That must have been some dream," Elliot said with a chuckle. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was still only 1:25. "If you're hungry, we've still got time to get something."

"That's ok," Olivia said with a shake of her head. "I've got a yogurt in the fridge upstairs, I think. Besides, I'm not that hungry, anyway." She stared at him and softly added, "I should have told you."

"About what, the dream?"

"No, you big lug, I mean about Alex and me," Olivia said. "You were right before. You're my partner, I trust you with my life, and yet I never allowed you in that part of my life. I should have told you."

Elliot reached out and squeezed her hand. "You did tell me after all."

"Only because I was jealous of you," Olivia admitted. "Of what you had. Plus the fact that you're with another ADA, it reminds me of what I lost."

"It must be hard for you, what with Alex away in witness protection and all," Elliot said.

"It's a super bitch," Olivia said with a heavy sigh. "Knowing that the one you love is out there, somewhere, and she loves you just as much, and you don't know if you'll ever see her again. It makes it hard to move on, you know?"

Elliot nodded his understanding. "Still, you are moving on.Speaking of which, how did it go with Eric last night? You obviously didn't see him after dealing with Beauchamp, right?"

"Yeah, hecalled me. He said he understood perfectly, and we're on again for tonight." She shook her head slightly. "I still feel like I'm betraying Alex. But Eric is really nice. I don't know, I guess I'll just have to take it slow and see how it goes."

"That's all anybody can really do," he said, as they got out of the car.

Once inside the One-Six, they strode past the holding cells on their way to the SVU squad room. Charles Beauchamp glared back at them from behind the bars.

"Your lawyer didn't get here yet?" Olivia said with a smirk.

"Oh she'll be here," Beauchamp said smugly. "And then I'll be seeing you real soon…Olivia."

That last comment made them come to an abrupt halt in the hallway. Olivia turned to Beauchamp and asked, "Are you threatening me?"

"I only said that I would be seeing you real soon once my lawyer gets me out of here, that's all," Beauchamp replied smoothly. "Did either of you hear a threat anywhere in there?"

"Whatever," Olivia said, waving a hand at him.

She turned and continued walking down the hallway, and Elliot followed for a while, until he stopped suddenly. "You go on ahead, Liv. I have to use the men's room."

She didn't believe him for a second. "Elliot, let it go. He's just trying to do what he does best: bully women around."

"No, I really have to go," he said, backing away from her. "I'll meet you in the squad room."

Olivia anxiously shook her head. "Please don't do anything stupid."

"I promise I'll unzip before I relieve myself," he said over his shoulder as he walked back down the hallway.

He walked straight past the men's room and got the key for Beauchamp's cell from the jailer.

Beauchamp stared at him warily as Elliot opened the door to his cell and stepped inside. Elliot then walked straight up to Beauchamp, and kept walking, pushing Beauchamp backward until he had the man with his back up against the wall.

"W-What are you doing?" Beauchamp said, startled.

"I just want to tell you something." Elliot stood face to face with Beauchamp and spoke in a cold, deathless whisper. "If you're ever dumb enough to go after Olivia, you're gonna have to come through me, first. Understand? And if you ever grow the balls to come up against me, you won't last five minutes. Got it, Charlie?"

Beauchamp merely stared fearfully at him.

Elliot turned around and walked back out of the cell. He closed the door and then glanced over at Beauchamp, who stared back at him as if he were insane.

'Now that's more like it,' Elliot thought with a satisfied smile.

After bringing the keys back to the jailer, Elliot strolled down the hallway to the SVU squad room, which was a beehive of activity. George Huang was there; he chatted with Munch and Fin. Cragen stood speaking with a dark haired woman whom Elliot had never seen before. In both her dress and the way she held herself, the woman had the professional air of somebody who worked within the legal system. Elliot had her pegged as a lawyer.

And over in the corner, Elliot saw Olivia speaking quietly with Detective Alex Eames. Goren, Eames' partner, wasn't present. When Elliot drifted over to the women, Olivia gave him an anxious glance—to which he responded by giving her a slight shake of his head, his way of saying that there was nothing to worry about.

"Hey, Stabler," Eames said with a smile.

"Eames," he said in greeting. "Where's your partner?"

"Running down some leads," she replied. "You really weren't kidding when you said you had a lot of enemies, were you?"

Elliot shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a popular guy. Why, you find anybody who might have hired the sniper?"

"Well, it's just that we've noticed you that guys have brushed up against the Russian mob a few times," Eames said. "But this really doesn't look like their handiwork—that's what Goren'sout doing right now, in fact, just trying to confirm whether or not they actually did put a hit out recently."

Elliot recalled the cases where he and Olivia tangled with the Russians, including that truly memorable time—one that he would really like to forget—when U.S. Marshals arrested them both. "That was a long time ago," he said. "And we didn't actually do anything directly to the Russians in those cases to piss them off enough for them to want to kill me."

"Still I wouldn't mind going over some of your old cases with you," Eames said. "Y'know, go over them one by one, and get your input on whether any of them might be a likely suspect."

"Sure thing," Elliot said. He wasn't really sure if it would pan out, but what the hell: they had nothing better to do.

Cragen came over with the dark-haired woman whom he spoke with. "This is Alexandra Borgia from the D.A.'s office," he said. "She'll be prosecuting the sniper case, as well as handling some of Casey's workload in the interim. These are my detectives Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson, and Detective Alex Eames from the Major Case Squad."

"How do you do," Borgia said with a nod.

"Pleased to meet you," Olivia said, with a slightly pained look on her face. "So you'll be prosecuting the sniper, when we get him."

"Actually, I'm working with Jack McCoy on the sniper case," Borgia corrected. "I'm the second chair on that. But I'll also be prosecuting SVU's cases on my own in the interim."

Elliot nodded with approval. He was glad to see Branch, the District Attorney, had decided to call out one of his big guns for the sniper case, and Senior ADA Jack McCoy was his howitzer.

'Now all we have to do is just catch the son of a bitch!' Elliot thought miserably.

Once everybody was introduced, the meeting began. The detectives went over the events of the day while Huang, Borgia, Eames and Cragen all listened intently.

When they were finished, Borgia quietly said, "This guy sounds scary."

"He's definitely a professional," Huang said, thoughtfully. The dapper Chinese-American psychiatrist leaned up against a table. "Where any other person would have panicked, being pursued as he was so intently by the police, this guy kept his cool throughout your entire chase. But something else intrigues me: the point that Detective Munch brought up, as to why he went back to the house in the first place. He was putting himself at great risk by doing that."

"Yeah," Elliot said. "We thought he might have went back to get something. But we searched the house again—and this was after CSU originally turned the place upside-down—but we found nothing."

"I'll call Siper and ask for her people to toss the place again," Cragen said.

Huang shook his head. "It doesn't sound like he went back there to retrieve something. Elliot, I've heard a theory that you might have been the target. Did you get the impression that he might have been there because of you?"

"What? He was stalking me?" Elliot said. "It's possible. But if he wanted to take another shot at me, he had the perfect chance and didn't take it. Hell, Liv saw him long before I did."

"And we don't know how long he was standing there before I saw him," Olivia said, looking rattled.

"But that's exactly what I'm talking about," Huang said. "If he wanted to kill you, Elliot, he could have—yet he didn't. He's greatly interested in you for some reason."

"For what purpose could he be stalking Elliot, then?" Cragen asked.

"Could be for psychosexual reasons," Huang remarked. "He could be fixated on Elliot for some reason, attracted to him."

Elliot groaned inwardly at that. He really didn't have anything against Huang personally; he just wasn't very fond of the psychiatric profession in general. In his experience, shrinks always had a tendency to either state the blindingly obvious, or come up with a theory that was far crazier than the perp whom they spoke about.

'But still, why was he shadowing me?' Elliot wondered. 'If he didn't want to shoot me, and if he didn't leave anything behind, then what's the point of following me to the crime scene? Unless he still wanted to finish what he started with Casey, and….'

"Oh shit," Elliot muttered. When everyone glanced at him, he said, "Maybe he knows that I'm part of Casey's protection detail, and he's spying on me in the hope that I might lead him to her. To the safe house."

"That sounds more likely to me," Cragen said. He abruptly nodded, as if coming to a decision. "Just to be on the safe side, I'm having Casey moved to a new safe house tonight."

"A perp tailing cops," Fin said with amazement. "Man, this dude is one cold mother!"

"A regular ice man," Munch commented.

"In fact, not only am I moving Casey, but I'm also gonna switch the protection detail around," Cragen said. "Tomorrow's detail will watch her tonight."

Olivia looked up at him, startled. "I'm on the detail for tomorrow, Cap."

"Then that means you're babysitting Casey tonight," Cragen said. "I'm hoping that the more we jumble up our schedule, the more we'll confuse the sniper."

Olivia simply let out a disappointed sigh as she slumped back in her seat.

'Oh man,' Elliot thought, as he gave Olivia a pained look of sympathy. He knew she was meeting Ericagain tonight—until Cragen had just changed her plans.

A blond woman strode into the squad room. She was dressed to kill in a business suit and carried a briefcase. "May we help you?" Cragen asked her.

"Alexis Norton," the woman said. "I'm Charles Beauchamp's attorney. I understand that your regular ADA is not available. So I guess that means we'll be postponed—"

Borgia abruptly stood just then and smiled sweetly at her. "Alexandra Borgia, D.A.'s office. And no, your client's case will not be postponed, it will be moving forward as planned. And I plan to nail him to the wall."

"I see," Norton said, looking annoyed. "Is there someplace here where we can discuss the particulars?"

"How about we move this into my office?" Cragen offered.

When the threesome was in Cragen's office, Munch said, "Alex Eames, Alexandra Borgia and now Alexis Norton. We're being invaded by women named Alex!"

"We're slowly taking over the world," Eames deadpanned, "one city at a time."

Elliot erupted into laughter along with Munch and Fin at Eames' joke. But when he glanced at Olivia, he saw that she was not laughing. She abruptly got up and left the room, holding her cell phone in her hand. Elliot stared helplessly after her. 'Shit,' he thought. 'Now she's got to cancel yet another date.'

"Detective Stabler," Eames said, holding up a handful of files. "Since we've now got some free time, you care to go over some of your old cases with me right now? Even if you might not be the sniper's target after all, I'd still want to checkthese, just to be thorough."

"Sure," he said, giving Olivia one last sympathetic glance. 'If this guy breaks her heart,' he thought darkly, 'I'll break his neck….'

**To Be Continued...**


	10. Recalling A Love Lost

**Allegiance **

**Chapter Ten: Recalling A Love Lost**

Olivia stood in the empty interrogation room staring out the window. Outside, the buildings had merged into one large gray outline beneath the sunny skies above. Olivia wondered if it was sunny right now wherever Alex was. Were those same rays shining down on her golden hair, illuminating her gorgeous face and sparkling smile? Or was she even a blond now? Did she receive a new hair color to match her new identity? But it didn't really matter to Olivia what the color of her hair was, or what new name people called her now, for she would always be Alex.

Her Alex.

Despite her valiant efforts, the tears welled up in Olivia's eyes. She glanced down hatefully at her cell phone, at Eric's number on the screen, and she switched it off.

'Who am I kidding?' she thought. 'It would be the same song and dance, anyway. I'd tell him I can't make it, and he'd say he'd understand, and we'd make another date, which I will have to break, and the time will soon come when he'll be too busy to see me. And then he'll be too busy to return my calls, and then…he'll be gone, just like the others.'

Alex understood. Alex was always truly there for her, day and night. Sometimes, because of their busy schedules, they wouldn't see each other privately for days, and when they did, it would be like a stolen moment. Because of that, because their time together was so precious, there was never any explanations or how or why they were so busy, for they each perfectly understood the situation, and simply lived in—and cherished—those stolen moments they had together.

'God, how I wish I could be with you again, Alex!' Olivia dismally thought.

"Olivia?" a man's voice said softly from behind her.

She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Hello, George."

George Huang took a tentative step towards her. "Would you prefer to be alone?"

'That's just the problem,' she thought sadly. 'No matter how hard I try, I always seem to wind up being alone anyway.'

"It's fine, George. How've you been?"

"Good," he replied, coming up alongside of her. "If I'm being too intrusive, just say so. But judging from your reaction to Cragen changing the protection duty schedule, I take it you've been forced to cancel another date."

Olivia nodded regretfully.

"What did he say?"

"Who, Eric?" She shook her head. "I haven't called him yet."

George frowned in puzzlement. "Why not?"

"What's the point?" Olivia bluntly asked. "If there's one constant in my personal life George, it's that everybody leaves. Even Alex…she certainly didn't mean to, but she still left me anyway."

"You and Alex were very close," George said. It was more of a statement than a question.

"We were lovers," she said. 'This seems to be my week for making earth-shattering confessions,' she wryly thought. When she noticed that George didn't appear fazed, she added, "But I guess you already knew that."

"I suspected," he admitted.

"And you never said anything."

"It wasn't my place to. Your private life is your own business."

"Thanks," Olivia said with a nod. She gazed out the window once more. "I really miss her. Not a day goes by when I don't think about Alex. Today, most of all, thanks to the Alex convention we've suddenly got going in the squad room."

"Yeah, I know," said George, shaking his head. "Munch even mentioned it after you left, and Detective Eames made a joke about it." He took a deep breath. "Listen, Liv…"

"I know what you're going to say," she said. "You're gonna tell me to not give up on Eric, right?"

A slight smile crept across his face. "Actually, I was going to tell you to try not to read too much into the fact that we've got three women named Alex in the squad room. But, yeah, I heartily agree with your point as well."

"It just that everything with Alex was so easy," Olivia said softly. "And now that she's gone, it's so frigging hard. Everything is just a struggle for me."

"That's understandable. When Alex left, you've had to rebuild your life from scratch, and that's not easy. How did you meet Eric?"

She told him about the first time she met Eric in the computer store. Olivia hated computers, and only used them because of work. Yet when the laptop that Alex had given her as a birthday present broke down, she went to get it fixed, since it was one of the few precious things that remained from their relationship, plus it had all of the e-mail she had exchanged with Alex still stored on it. Sometimes rereading those old emails from Alex was the only thing that had kept Olivia going on lonely nights. The computer store was packed, all of the salesmen were busy, and Olivia was at a loss until Eric showed up. At first she thought he was a salesman, until she realized that he was just another customer who had come to her aid, because, as he put it: "You look a little lost."

This goofy guy, who was very handsome in a bookish kind of way, with these narrow black glasses that matched the color of his hair, had won her over with his witty, laconic humor—as well as the fact that he saved her the trouble and the expense of getting the laptop fixed by offering to fix it for free. He took her to a corner café, where he straightened the computer out by giving it a reboot…or something; Olivia wasn't really sure what he did. But he did fix the computer and even helped her to back up all of the old email from Alex.

When she offered to pay him for his good deed, Eric simply sat back in his chair and said, "A smile from you would be payment enough for me."

And in spite of how corny the whole thing seemed to her, Olivia had burst into a shy smile right at that moment.

"That's more like it," Eric said with an approving grin. "I knew you had one of them hidden away somewhere."

Olivia realized that she was smiling broadly even now, as she recalled that day for George.

"You really like him, don't you?' George asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "I like Eric. I like him a lot. For one thing, he's not involved in law enforcement, y'know? He designs websites. And he's sweet, nice…and so damn understanding!"

"Then give him a call," George told her. "Follow your own advice and don't give up on him."

"I will," Olivia said, as she brought out her cell phone. "But I'm still not going back into the squad room until that army of Alex broads has cleared out. Dealing with my fears is one thing, but that scene out there is just too freaking bizarre for me to handle."

"I don't blame you!" George said, smiling, as he left the room. "I'm gonna head home, now. See you tomorrow."

"Take care, George." Olivia stared warily at her cell phone. "Ok, Eric," she whispered, "let's see just how understanding you really are."

**SVU Squad Room. Five Minutes Later.**

'He's a frigging saint,' Olivia thought, as she wandered back into the squad room in a daze. 'The man is truly a frigging saint, no question! When I finally do get together with him, I'd better check him for wings and a halo!'

Munch stood speaking quietly with Eames by the door, while Elliot sat chatting with Fin at his desk. Elliot glanced up at her and asked, "How did it go?"

Olivia simply stared at him and said, "He told me he understood perfectly."

He scowled at her. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

"No, it's not, but—" Still amazed, Olivia simply shrugged, at a loss for words.

Fin burst into laughter. "She finally meets Mr. Right, and she doesn't know what to do with him! That's rich!"

"Fin?" Olivia said sweetly. "Shut the hell up, ok?"

"What did he say, exactly?" Elliot asked.

Olivia recalled Eric's exact words over the phone: "I really like you, Liv. I understand that you've got a very demanding job. And I mean it: I understand, perfectly. You seem like a very interesting person, and I want to get to know you better. And if I have to wait a while to get together with you, then I will. Because anytime spent with you will be well worth it."

Olivia relayed what Eric told her, word for word, and added, "Plus he still has this mysterious 'something' that he wants to show me."

"What is it?" Fin asked.

"I don't know!" Olivia replied, frustrated. "He still won't tell me! It's driving me crazy! He keeps saying he'll only show me what it is once I'm at his place."

"Aw, he's giving you an incentive to come over," Fin said with a smile. "That's pretty sweet!"

But Elliot wasn't smiling. "That tactic has also been used by a lot of the skells that we deal with here on a daily basis." He glanced sharply at Olivia and asked, "What's his full name?"

"Eric Anders," Olivia replied. "And there's no need for you to run a check on him, because I already have, back when I first met him."

"Any priors?"

Olivia let out a heavy sigh. "You think I'd be seeing him if he had any? C'mon, El, give me some credit here. Yes, he's clean."

"The problem with you, Elliot, is that you're not very romantic," Fin chided him.

"I'm being stalked by a psycho-sexual sniper," Elliot replied, jokingly referring to Huang's profile of their perp, "I really don't feel very romantic right now."

"Maybe if you called him for a date? You know, break the ice?" Olivia suggested in jest. When the glare from Elliot told her that her attempt at humor went over like a lead balloon, she gave him a timid smile and said, "Ok, uh, I gotta go move Casey, now. Excuse me."

As she quickly walked over to Cragen's office, Olivia stifled a laugh when she overheard Fin tell Elliot: "You should really think about switching to decaf, man."

Olivia knocked on Cragen's door, and heard him say "Come in!" over a continuous stream of conversation between the two women lawyers. As Olivia entered the office, Borgia told Norton: "And if that's the case you're seriously going to present in court, then _you're_ the one who's certifiable, not your client!"

Olivia glanced at Cragen and mouthed the words "Moving Casey."

Cragen nodded at her as he quickly wrote something down on a sheet of paper then he folded it up and handed it to her. "Take the scenic route."

"Will do," she replied as she took the folded up sheet of paper—which contained the location of the new safe house—and left the office. What Cragen meant by "take the scenic route" was not to go directly to the new safe house, but rather take a roundabout way, as a means of shaking off anybody who might be following or watching them.

When she returned to the squad room, Olivia got her jacket from her desk and announced, "I'm off."

"Oh, we've known that you've been off for quite some time, Olivia," Munch said with a sly smile. "But we still like you anyway."

"Ha…ha…ha," Olivia sarcastically said. "Hey, are you my relief tonight?"

"No, that would be Fin," Munch corrected. He still stood with Eames by the doorway. He turned to her and said, "I can't believe you know about the Lone Gunmen. Not many people have heard of them."

"I know them through Goren," Eames said with a smile. "He used to subscribe to their newsletter. I really enjoyed the copies that he lent me. Some of their theories were really way out there. Whatever happened to them? They just stopped publishing."

"Ah, the rumors abound," Munch replied. "My favorite—the one that I believe—is that they've been killed."

"By the very same nefarious forces whom they dared to expose to the light of truth, no doubt," Eames said in an overly melodramatic manner.

"Oh man," Fin said with mock horror, "not another one like Munch!"

After the scattered laughter finally died down in the squad room, Eames said, "You're serious? They're really dead?"

"Well, that's just one of the rumors," Munch told her. "Another was they were abducted by aliens."

"All right," Olivia said wearily, "now that Munch's ranting again, I'm really getting out of here!"

"Wait," Eames told her. "I've gotta go, too. We'll share the elevator." She glanced at Munch and added, "I'd be interested in hearing more about the Lone Gunmen some other time."

"You know where to find me," Munch replied. "I still have to tell you about the time I actually met those guys."

Eames was just about to walk out the door with Olivia when she stopped dead in her tracks. "You met them? Really? Where?"

"In Baltimore, back when I worked down there as a cop," Munch said.

'I'm never gonna leave this place,' Olivia fumed, as she watched Eames and Munch resume their conversation as she weren't even there.

Elliot came over to her and whispered, "Have a good night, tonight. Be safe, and take care of my baby, huh?"

"Will do," she said. "That is, if I can ever—"

"Benson, I'm sorry!" Eames said sheepishly, as she hurried over.

"No problem," Olivia said, as they both walked out through the doorway. She and Elliot exchanged one final nod of farewell before she left the squad room. They went down the hallway and Eames hit the button for the elevator.

"It must be fascinating working with John all day," Eames said, "listening to his stories and interesting theories."

Olivia stared at her, dumbfounded, for a spilt second. It was the concept of applying the word 'fascinating' to Munch that threw her. While John Munch was a truly decent person at heart and a great cop to work with, listening to his conspiracy theories all day often drove Olivia past the point of sanity.

"Yeah, it is," Olivia replied, in an effort to be polite. As they both stepped into the elevator, something abruptly occurred to her in that moment: Eames was sweet on Munch. If nothing else, she was certainly interested in him.

Olivia wondered if he picked up the signs from her. She hoped so. 'Munch could do a lot worse than Eames,' Olivia thought. She recalled the argument she had with Eames and Goren yesterday and inwardly cringed. "Hey, listen, I've been meaning to apologize. You know, about acting like a complete shit with you and Goren in the squad room yesterday?"

Eames shook her head. "Oh, no. Look, this case has put a lot of pressure on all of us, but for you guys in the SVU, it must be a real meat grinder. Don't worry about it, Benson, really."

Olivia nodded. "Call me Olivia."

"Only if you call me Alex," she replied.

'Another Alex,' Olivia thought ruefully. 'But not my Alex….'

The elevator doors opened and they walked out in the main lobby of the precinct. "I gotta head over to the main desk," Olivia told her. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you then," Eames said. "Take care."

"You too."

Olivia went over and consulted with the sergeant at the main desk. She needed him to rustle up some uniforms to help her with moving Casey to the new safe house later. After making some phone calls, the sergeant said, "They'll be down in a sec."

"I'll meet them outside," Olivia told him.

She went out to the front of the One-Six to wait for her uniformed escorts. It wasn't long before Officer Ronald "Ronnie" Dolan exited the building with two of his uniformed comrades in tow. "Hey, Benson! We heard you were looking for some manly studs to escort you, tonight."

"Yeah," Olivia casually replied. "Did you find them, yet?"

Ronnie dramatically struck his chest with his hand, as if he had been hit, while his fellow officers laughed at her wisecrack.

As Olivia turned around to walk to the car, she glanced up at the building—the same one she had been coming to work to for the past six years, now—and was abruptly stricken with an overwhelming sense of dread. It was the strangest thing, but Olivia had the odd feeling that this might be the last time she would ever lay eyes on the One-Six.

'Knock it off,' she told herself. "You've got a job to do. Keep your shit together and get it done.'

Yet even as Olivia remained cool and calm outwardly as she drove off in the squad car with Ronnie, she still could not shake the feeling of dread that had overwhelmed her. It was an ominous feeling that told Olivia that danger was close by. And the danger got ever closer to her the further she rode away from the One-Six.

**To Be Continued...**


	11. The Enemy Revealed

**Allegiance **

Chapter Eleven: The Enemy Revealed

Casey sat on the couch watching a horror movie. It was a vampire movie that detective Danny Laughlin had rented for her called Dracula: The Ascension, and it was about a group of people who captured the lord of the vampires and held him prisoner. His captors confined poor Drac within a drained swimming pool, using sunlamps. The bloodsucker was unable to go outside, or even to move a muscle. And after spending a couple of days in protective custody, Casey could really feel for the guy. When Dracula finally broke free, Casey rooted for him. She reveled in the sight of the vampire attacking his captors, ripping their necks out, and—

'Jeez, I am really going crazy in here,' Casey thought, shaking her head.

She got up from the couch and walked around the room, feeling restless. Normally a very active person, Casey wasn't used to just sitting around the house all day. When she wasn't spending the day in court, she was in her office, and when she wasn't in the office, she was out exercising: either playing softball, or riding her bike or working out. What made this situation even worse was the fact that she was completely cut off from her job, which was practically her entire life.

The phone call earlier from Branch turned out to be very sweet. The District Attorney had called her just before noon and told her to turn on the local twelve o'clock news. When Casey did so, she saw an updated report about the sniper attack on her office. There was a shot of Branch giving a prepared statement regarding how the DA's office would not rest until the sniper was brought to justice. He made this statement at his desk, flanked by an army of ADAs, including Jack McCoy, Alexandra Borgia, Stephen Carver, Tracey Kibre, Kelly Gaffney and many others.

While Casey was deeply moved by this show of solidarity on behalf of her coworkers, it made her miss her job all the more. And no sooner was the news report over than she received a scare. The anchor cut in with breaking news about gunfire in the Canal Street Subway Station, and that NYPD detectives were involved. The reporter at the scene confirmed Casey's worst fears when she stated the detectives involved in the possible gunfight were from the Special Victim's Unit.

Casey, worried sick that Elliot might have been injured—or worse—abruptly went ballistic just then, demanding that Detective Danny Laughlin allow her to call Elliot. But Laughlin wouldn't allow her to do that, at least not with her own phone; for fear that it might be traced. After Casey raised holy hell, he finally compromised by allowing her to use his cell phone. There would be no reason for anybody to be tracing his cell, anyway.

Casey had gotten so worked up over Elliot being hurt that it never occurred to her that the news—not having the whole story—simply turned a molehill into a mountain in their insatiable quest for ratings. Yet while she felt silly, it was still a relief for Casey to hear Elliot's calm, confident voice on the phone. It was the first time he had spoken to her since last night, when he had to hurriedly get dressed before his relief arrived to take over from him.

Casey hated the fact that Elliot had to leave so abruptly soon last night, as if he were a secret lover who courted her only in clandestine meetings. It felt as if they were doing something wrong, like cheating on their spouses. She couldn't wait to have a real relationship with Elliot, where they could walk in the sunlight like real lovers. But for as long as she was a marked woman, as long as this sick maniac was on the loose, Casey would have to remain in hiding. She gloomily wondered if the day would ever come when she would be able to take a simple walk down the street without fearing for her life.

Sudden movement from the TV caught her attention, and when Casey glanced up, she saw Dracula putting the bite on Elizabeth, the main female character in the movie. Casey had grown to like Elizabeth, and was so annoyed at this turn of events that she blurted out "Oh no!"

Danny Laughlin came running into the living room, his hand on his holstered gun. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, um, Elizabeth got bit by the vampire," Casey said, as she sheepishly gestured at the TV. "Sorry, Danny. I guess I got carried away."

Danny let out a sigh as he nodded. "No problem, Ms. Novak."

She wondered if he was still angry with her for throwing such a hissy fit before. Casey decided to test the waters. "Feel free to call me Casey, Danny."

"Yes, Ms. Novak," Laughlin said tersely, as he went back into the kitchen.

'Oh, yeah, he's still pissed at me,' she thought with a slight nod. Casey was abruptly startled when she heard the sharp knock on the front door.

'Who the hell's that?' Casey wondered, as she anxiously got to her feet. Munch was her next scheduled babysitter, and yet he wasn't expected for another two hours.

Detective Laughlin quickly came back in and gestured at Casey, indicating he wanted her to stay right where she was. Keeping one hand on his holstered Glock, he looked through the peephole. "It's ok," he told her, opening the door. "It's Detective Benson."

Olivia entered the house with three uniformed officers, all from the One-Six.

"What happened?" Casey excitedly asked. She hoped Olivia would tell her that they caught the sniper and Elliot was presently throttling him in an interrogation room at the precinct and she was finally free to leave this place and go out and do her job and live her life. Just like Dracula, Casey would gleefully make her escape.

At least, that was what Casey wanted to hear. Instead, her hopes for freedom were dashed once Olivia explained the situation: "It looks like the sniper's been actively trying to find out where you are. So we're moving you someplace else, just to be on the safe side."

"How has he been trying to find me?" Casey asked.

"It looks like he might have been trying to tail us, in order to find out where you are," Olivia replied dismally. "That's why we ran across him earlier today."

Fear made Casey feel cold all over. She instinctively crossed her arms in front of her chest and backed away from Olivia. Her first instinct was to run for her life. But Casey had to sickening feeling that no matter where she ran to, this sniper bastard would be there waiting for her. "This guy really wants me," she whispered fearfully, "doesn't he?"

Olivia glanced at one of the uniforms and said, "Ronnie, start gathering Ms. Novak's things, would you?"

Ronnie nodded, and gestured for the other cops to go with him.

Olivia then came over to Casey. "Look, he may be determined to find you, but we're just as determined to protect you, Casey. And if he's dumb enough to show his face tonight, I'll put a bullet in it."

"Thanks, Olivia," Casey said softly. Then her eyes grew wide when she heard the uniforms were all in the bedroom. "Uh, wait a minute…."

She went in and found the uniforms were packing her clothes into the suitcase. One of them, Ronnie, opened the dresser drawer containing her underwear.

"Ok, thanks guys," Casey said, as she nudged her way in-between Ronnie and her underwear. "I'll take it from here."

Olivia shook her head in disgust at Ronnie. "When I said move her stuff, I meant books, knick-knacks, and what-not! Not her clothes!"

"All right, all right, all right," Ronnie muttered as he left the room with the other cops. They all had the air of three ashamed little boys who had been caught doing something bad.

When they were alone in the bedroom, Casey started packing her stuff into the suitcase. "Sorry for being so fussy, but—"

"Oh no, I understand," Olivia said. "Besides, the only man who should see your underwear is the one whom you love, right?"

That remark made Casey cease packing. She smiled shyly at Olivia and said, "I guess you now know about Elliot and me…."

Olivia's response to that was this broad grin that slowly spread out across her face. She simply nodded at Casey, her bemusement reflected within her dark feline-like eyes. "And I couldn't be happier for the both of you."

Once she was packed, Casey went for a long and elaborate ride with Olivia and the other police officers. It wasn't enough to drive straight over to the new safe house; they had to make sure they weren't being followed. Casey was driven via a car to a garage, where she got into a van. She rode in the van for a while, until they arrived at an indoor parking lot…where she got into yet another van. That drive lasted about a half an hour, ending when they pulled into a private garage. This was the safe house.

A uniformed officer remained with Casey in the garage while Olivia, Laughlin and the uniforms checked out the safe house. Casey had to admit that, in spite of whatever underlying tension they had between them, she was extremely grateful to have Olivia here with her. Having a familiar face with her made this awkward and frightening experience bearable.

Once the safe house was given the all clear, the uniforms left while Danny Laughlin went out to get some groceries. Casey finally got to see her new 'home' for the time being. Unlike her first safe house, this place was actually a house. It was a one-story ranch-style structure with a view of the woods in the back yard. The décor was pretty bland, but at least there was a little more room here than she had before.

"We're still in New York State?" Casey asked Olivia.

"We're in Long Island." Olivia pointed at the woods beyond the windows. "I'm told the beach is just out past those trees, but I wouldn't advise you leaving the house at all."

"Don't worry about that," Casey said. "With my luck the way it's been lately, if I went for a swim, Jaws would probably be waiting for me in the water."

Casey was surprised to see Olivia laugh gently at her remark. "Did you hear about Beauchamp?" she asked.

"Yes, that's great news! Those tapes should put him away for a very long time." Casey felt a pang of regret when she realized that she might not be the one who prosecuted Beauchamp. "Did Branch give you guys another ADA yet?"

Olivia nodded. "Her name's Borgia. She seems nice enough, and competent, but I miss you."

Casey was deeply touched by that last comment. But before she could reply, Laughlin returned with the groceries, and she and Olivia got busy helping him put the stuff away in the kitchen. Once they were done, Laughlin bid them a good night and left.

Olivia and Casey stood uneasily in the kitchen for a moment, until Casey said, "So, you're my babysitter tonight, huh?"

"Cragen switched the duty roster, in the hopes of further confusing the sniper." She grew thoughtful for a second. "Listen, Casey, I've been meaning to apologize. I recall we got into a pretty vicious fight just before your office was fired on, and I said some really terrible things to you."

Casey shook her head. "It's already been forgotten, Olivia. Don't worry about it."

"But you were right," Olivia told her. "When you said that you didn't believe Linda Beauchamp was involved in the rapes, you were right on the money, Casey. She wasn't involved. And she was so outraged when she found out what Beauchamp was actually doing that she nearly shot him dead. You were right and I was wrong. I just wanted to clear the air about that."

"Thanks, Olivia," Casey said. "I really appreciate it."

"One other thing," Olivia said. "All of my friends—my close friends—call me Liv. I expect you to do the same from now on, ok?"

As if Casey hadn't already been taken aback by Olivia's kindness, this last act almost floored her. She was so choked up she was literally at a loss for words. She nodded, trying hard not to burst into tears.

Olivia glanced down at the floor. "Um, I've been told, by a very good source, that I've been somewhat bitchy with you in the past. I'd just like to wipe the slate clean and start over, if I could. So how about if we just start fresh from here on. Ok?"

"Of course," Casey replied with relief. "That would be great, Liv." She smiled. "This source, would that have been Elliot?"

"Yep."

"Did he tell you about us?"

"Yeah, but only after I applied the proper pressure," Olivia said with a grin.

Casey burst into giggles at the thought of her strong, masculine Elliot caving in to Olivia. "What? Did you threaten to shoot him if he didn't tell you?"

"Oh no, you just have to know what buttons to push with him," Olivia said mischievously. "Hell, you work with somebody for six years and you learn all kinds of tricks of how to manipulate them."

"I'm going to have tea," Casey said. "Would you like some? And maybe you can tell me some of these tricks?"

"Certainly," Olivia replied, as she removed her jacket and placed it on the back of the chair. "Just don't tell Elliot I told you."

"My lips are sealed," Casey said, as she glanced at the box of tea with a smile. "Great! Danny remembered that I liked green tea!"

**SVU Squadroom. The One Six. Two Hours Earlier. **

John Munch sat glaring at his desk. It wasn't that he was angry at this particular piece of furniture; it was just that Munch had the annoying feeling that, when it came to the sniper, they were missing a major piece of the puzzle.

Olivia had just left; she was going to get Casey settled in the new safe house. Alex Eames had already headed back to the MCS squad room. The other two women named Alex, Borgia and Norton, were still in Cragen's office, shooting daggers at each other with their eyes, while the Captain acted as sort of a reluctant referee. Munch swore that if looks could kill, the lawyers would have decapitated each other a long time ago.

'Where does somebody like this guy, this sniper, come from?' Munch asked himself. 'Usually, if it's a mob assassin, he'll come up through the ranks. But some of the best assassins have been ex-soldiers who hire themselves out for freelance jobs. The mob likes to use them, because they usually make themselves scarce after a hit, thus making it harder to trace back to them.'

Munch leaned forward in his chair when another idea struck him. 'The government also uses military personnel for assassinations—or what the CIA so eloquently calls 'special ops', which is nothing more than a blanket term to cover all sorts of grisly deeds.'

Munch picked up the phone and dialed a specific number, one that he never wrote down, but always kept memorized. He waited for the phone to ring on the other end. He let it ring four exact times.

Then Munch hung up. He sat back and waited.

After thirty seconds, his phone rang.

"Hello?" Munch asked, answering the phone. "Munch."

"What do you want?" a man asked.

"What else?" Munch said. "I want a meeting."

"When?"

"As soon as possible."

There was a pause on the other end. Then: "Same place, in an hour?"

"Got it."

When Munch hung up the phone, he glanced over and saw that Elliot, who was seated at his desk, was staring at him strangely. "What the hell was that all about?" Elliot asked.

"Just setting up a meeting with an informant of mine," Munch said, as he got up and put on his suit jacket.

Fin stood brewing another pot of coffee. "Is that the spook dude?"

"For lack of a better term, yes," Munch said.

"You think he might know something about our sniper?" Elliot asked.

"That's what I'm going to find out," Munch replied, as he headed to Cragen's office. He knocked on the door, and then opened it.

"Frankly I'd love to see what kind of defense you're going to put up against the overwhelming evidence we have," Borgia said to Norton. "I'm sure that'll be real entertaining to watch!"

Cragen sat at his desk with the bored to tears look of a man who really did not want to be where he was right then. When Munch stuck his head inside the office, Cragen perked up considerably, as if welcoming the interruption. "Yes, John?"

"Just want to let you know that I'll be out meeting with an informant," Munch told him. "I'll be back shortly."

Cragen nodded. "All right. Take as long as you need."

Munch shut the door and crossed the squad room towards the door. He was halfway across the room when he noticed Fin was following him.

"Can I come, too?' Fin asked.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"NO!" Munch spun around to face Fin. "Look, no offense, but this 'spook dude' is kind of a paranoid guy, ok? I always meet with him alone."

"Yeah, ok," Elliot said into the phone. After he hung up, he added, "Warner's got something that she wants to show us. Since Olivia's out with Casey, you can ride with me, Fin."

"Yeah, all right," Fin said with a disappointed sigh. He gave Munch a hard look. "You go meet James Bond, I'm riding with Elliot."

"And I hope you're both very happy together," Munch said sarcastically.

"Keep me out of your little lovers' spats, ok?" Elliot jokingly said, as he put his suit jacket on.

Munch left the precinct house and drove over to Central Park. He parked the car, and strode up a peaceful walkway. The trees were still bare, looking like claws that reached up towards the darkening skies.

Mr. NSA sat on a bench that overlooked a pond. He was alone, reading a newspaper. He looked to be forty something, with thinning grayish hair and a permanent hang dog expression on his face. He was clad in rumbled clothing that consisted of jeans, a New York Knicks sweatshirt, and an overcoat. To look at him, with his granny glasses hanging off the tip of his nose, a casual observer would guess that he was an out of work accountant. They would never realize that he was in fact a master spy with well over twenty years of service with the National Security Agency.

Munch first met Mr. NSA back when he worked homicide in Baltimore, during the murder case of a hooker that caught the attention of the NSA. The hooker turned out to be one of their undercover agents. While working on the case, Munch discovered that Mr. NSA was also a huge fan of the late, great Lone Gunmen newsletter, which reported on the various conspiracies of the government before it mysteriously went silent; he soon realized that Mr. NSA was one spy who didn't always toe the company line. They became fast friends during the investigation, and since those days, Mr. NSA had proven himself to be a valuable ally with tips and advice that he'd given Munch regarding various cases over the years.

Munch took a seat on the bench next to Mr. NSA.

Mr. NSA flicked the newspaper in his hands and said, "You think the Red Sox will do it again this year, Munch?"

"I didn't meet with you just to talk baseball," Munch told him. "What do you know about the sniper attack on the Manhattan DA's office?"

"Only that it wasn't a terrorist attack, or else we'd be involved in the investigation."

"How do you know that?"

"We checked out the usual suspects, and nobody had anything cooking." He frowned at Munch. "I thought you were with sex crimes, now. How did you catch this one?"

"Casey Novak, whose office was shot at, is our ADA," Munch said. "She's also a close friend of mine who now is in protective custody, in fear for her life, thanks to this bastard. We caught a break that allowed us to be the primaries in the investigation."

"What break was that?"

"Before he fired on Casey, the sniper shacked up with a woman, he tried to rape her, but when she tried to escape, he had to kill her. My partner and I caught that case, and that was how the SVU was officially able to get involved."

Mr. NSA pulled off his glasses and stared at Munch with wide eyes. "This woman the sniper shacked up with, was she bound with duct tape?"

Munch stared back at him, stunned. "Yeah."

"Was she an Asian woman?"

"She was Chinese-American."

"Did you find any marks on her?" Mr. NSA asked. "Like from a needle, or a…?"

"Our medical examiner thinks it was some kind of a tranquilizer dart," Munch replied, his stomach shrinking into a tight icy knot of fear. "We think he shot her with the dart, knocking her out, then he bound her with the tape."

"Oh, good Christ," Mr. NSA said softly.

"What?" Munch frantically asked. "What is it?"

"I think I may know who this guy is, John," he said quietly.

**Medical Examiner's Office. **

"And that's just the thing," Warner said. "He used a tranquilizer dart on Lu and Verges, but it wasn't the standard type dart they'd use in a zoo. If you'd use that on a human, it might wind up killing them."

"Because the dart's too big?" Fin asked.

"It's the dosage," Warner told him. "Your sniper would have to have the precise dosage to safely sedate a human being with a dart like this."

Elliot nodded. "That would require a smaller dart, a specially designed one?"

"Pretty much," Warner said grimly. "This doesn't sound like your regular Mafia hit man. You know, from what I've been hearing and finding out about this guy so far, he's sounding pretty scary."

"Yeah," Elliot said. "You're not the first person to say that very same thing today." His cell phone started ringing. "Excuse me."

He stepped away from the autopsy table, where Fin and Warner resumed their conversation. Elliot put the phone to his ear and said, "Stabler."

"Hello Elliot," a man's voice said. "It's good to speak to you again."

The tiny hairs on the back of Elliot's neck began to stand up. He recognized this voice. "Who is this?"

"Oh, Elliot, I'm shocked," the man said, his voice filled with a gentle mocking tone. "After all these years, you've forgotten your old friend. Rest assured, I haven't forgotten you. I must say you gave me quite a run for my money earlier today. Literally! You'll never know just how close you were to catching me in that alleyway."

"Oh sweet Jesus," Elliot whispered, stunned.

Both Fin and Warner ceased their conversation and glanced sharply at him. "Elliot," Fin quietly asked, "what's wrong?"

Elliot gestured at his cell phone. "It's the sniper!" he said, sotto voce.

"And you'll never know just how close you came to dying the other day," the sniper continued. "I had you in my sights, you stupid bastard. I was going to just blow you away until I saw you talking with your little sweetie pie, Casey Novak. That was when I realized that killing you outright was too good for you, Elliot. You would have gotten off way to easy. No, it's far better to make you suffer first. Having fun, yet? Well, I'm just getting started. Semper fi, baby."

The call was cut off. Even though he knew it to be a futile attempt, Elliot still glanced at his cell screen to see if there was a caller ID, but he saw only "Not Available." But he knew who it was. He recognized the voice, even after all these years, and those last three words, 'Semper fi, baby,' they cinched it for him. He finally knew who the sniper was, and it turned out to be one of the last people on earth whom he would ever suspect.

Warner took a step towards him and gently grabbed his arm. "Maybe you'd better sit down."

"She's right," Fin added. "You don't look too good."

"That's because I've just been speaking to a dead man," Elliot said.

"Who?" Fin asked. "The sniper?"

"Yeah, his real name is Eddie," Elliot said softly, as the old memories came racing back to him. "Eddie Lister."

**Central Park. **

"Edward Thomas Lister," Mr. NSA said. "Know the name?"

Munch shook his head. "Can't say I have. Who is he?"

"You ever hear of a group called Spec-Op-For, John?"

"Of course, the Special Operations Force. It's a branch within the NSA that recruits military personnel into black ops, doing wet work missions."

Mr. NSA smiled. "Wet work? Is that what they're calling the fine art of assassination these days?"

"Is that who this Edward Lister is?" Munch asked. "An assassin?"

"One of the best. He was recruited out of the Marines a while back, and worked the Pacific Rim until about five years ago."

"What happened?"

"He got captured by the North Koreans. He was sent to their capital Pyong-yang on a special assignment, a hit. But he never carried it out and promptly vanished. When we discreetly tried to find out what happened, we discovered that he never did the hit because he got captured after raping and killing two North Korean women. The M.O. was the same as with your murder. Apparently Mr. Lister had a predilection for that sort of thing, because there were also a series of similar rape-murders, with the exact same M.O. as Lister's, all over the Pacific Rim region, and once he was captured by the North Koreans, these rape-murders abruptly stopped."

"Good god," Munch whispered.

Mr. NSA nodded grimly. "Yeah. He was a real sick puppy. Once we found out what he had been doing, the decision was made to leave him where he was. Let him rot."

"So how can he be out, now? He escaped?"

"Either that, or the North Koreans deliberately let him go."

"Why?"

"To do exactly what he's doing right now, Munch, raising havoc on the streets of a major American city. Of course, since we have no real evidence of how he got out of North Korea, we can't prove this."

"Yet he is here," Munch said thoughtfully. "And he's got to be after Elliot."

Mr. NSA stared in puzzlement at Munch. "Who?"

"Elliot Stabler, he works with me at the One-Six. He was in Casey's office when the sniper fired on it. And before he joined the NYPD, he was in the Marines. He might have known Lister."

**Captain Cragen's Office. The One Six.**

"I knew him in the Marines," Elliot said, as he stood in Cragen's office. Cragen, Fin, Huang, Borgia and Senior ADA Jack McCoy all stood listening to him with rapt attention. "I met him during basic training on Parris Island. He seemed like an ok kid. A little on the gung-ho side, though, but he was one of the best marksmen in our company."

Elliot recalled the easy laugh that Eddie Lister had; it was a rollicking, infectious laugh that got everybody in the room rolling with it no matter what their mood was. Little did he realize then that that good humor had been nothing but a mask that hid the real Eddie Lister.

"My company was stationed in South Carolina, we were getting ready to leave for the Gulf War," Elliot continued. "And a group of us had managed to score some R&R. We had a two-day pass, and Eddie says he wants to go off by himself for a while. Well, the pass is about up, and we have to get back to the ship, and there's still no sign of Eddie. So I go to this flea-bag hotel, where he said he would be, to try and find him. And I do find him…only he's in a room with this woman, she was a local girl." Elliot shook his head at the memory of what he saw. "He had beaten this poor girl within an inch of her life. She just lay there, with both of her eyes swollen shut—I don't think she even knew we were there. Eddie just starts laughing and jokes about how he forgot the time."

He remembered how Eddie burst into his trademarked hyena laugh—as if the sight of him with a half dead woman on the bed was the most natural thing in the world—and he had said, "Time flies when you're having fun, eh, Elliot? Give me a sec, I just gotta finish her off, and then we'll be out of here."

Elliot watched in horror then as Eddie reached down and grabbed the unconscious woman by the head.

"He was going to snap her neck," Elliot told the group before him in Cragen's office. "He was going to kill her as casually as somebody kills a bug."

"What did you do?" Cragen asked.

"I stopped him," Elliot replied. "It wound up being a knock-down, drag-out fight, but I stopped him cold, and then I turned him in. The girl went to the hospital; she later recovered from the beating he gave her."

"What did the military authorities do with Lister?" McCoy asked.

"They were gonna try him for attempted murder," Elliot said. "But, a week later, they were taking Eddie to a Naval base for arraignment when the helicopter he traveled in went down in an accident. He and all aboard were reported killed. That's why I never even thought about him as being a suspect in all of this. Because all of this time, I thought he was dead."

"Until now, when he calls you right out of the blue," Cragen said.

"It sounds like he probably got sucked into some kind of secret black ops project," Fin said. Then he shook his head. "Man, I've been hanging around Munch for too long…."

"It's obvious now what his motive is," Huang said. "Vengeance, plain and simple. He may blame you for whatever he perceives has gone wrong with his life."

"He blames me because I turned him in for nearly killing that woman?" Elliot said, annoyed. "What was I supposed to do, pat him on the back and say, 'Good job'?"

"In his twisted mind, Elliot, that may have been precisely what he expected of you," Huang told him. "We're not dealing with a rational person here."

"That's putting it mildly," Elliot muttered. "Eddie Lister was a full-blown psychopath when I first knew him. And God only knows how far gone he is now."

"Well, rest assured your wife and children are now under full police protection," Cragen told him.

'Poor Kathy,' Elliot thought with an inward cringe. 'Even when she leaves me, she still isn't safe from this bullshit.'

"All right," McCoy said with a heavy sigh. "I must confer with Branch about this. If Edward Lister is involved in some kind of government black op project, then maybe the federal government will be so kind to give us a hand in apprehending him, or at least give us some more information that will help us capture him." He glanced at Elliot and added, "And as of this moment, Detective Stabler, you're off this case."

**Central Park.**

Mr. NSA leaned forward in his seat, looking very thoughtful. "You know, we were bracing ourselves for when Lister returned to the States. We'd figured he'd try gunning for the NSA brass in Washington, but apparently he wasn't that stupid. We never thought he'd come after his old Marine buddy. But still…this may tie in with something that happened here recently."

"What was that?" Munch asked.

"About a week ago, somebody hacked into the NYPD database," Mr. NSA said. "I was called in as an advisor on the investigation, thanks to a buddy of mine in the FBI. We were never able to determine who broke in, or what classified information was compromised, but in light of recent events, it looks like a prime suspect has come up."

"It could have been Lister. He could have been checking out Elliot's personnel file." Munch shuddered as a very frightening thought arose within his mind. "You said you didn't know what information within the NYPD database had been exposed to the hacker, right?"

"Right," he confirmed. "The hacker, assuming it was Lister, could have gained knowledge to just about anything concerning all NYPD operations."

"Including a list of all of the NYPD safe houses in the tri-state area?" Munch asked in a whisper.

Mr. NSA's face was ashen. "Sweet Jesus, John. You'd better move Novak quickly. Because Lister may know exactly where she is."

**Captain Cragen's Office. The One Six.**

"What the hell are you talking about?" Elliot angrily asked.

Cragen held up a hand. "Easy, Elliot."

"I'm sorry, Detective," McCoy said. "This decision has no bearing on your skills as a cop, which are exemplary. But even you can see that this case has become far too personal for you. In fact, if anybody ought be in protective custody right now, it should be you."

When Cragen's phone began to ring, he answered it.

"Look, I know this guy," Elliot said to McCoy. "I've dealt with him before. I'm the sole expert on Eddie Lister here, so you need me now more than ever in this investigation."

"All due respect, but you originally thought Eddie Lister was dead, detective," McCoy shot back. "And the man whom you speak of is someone you knew well over twenty years ago. People can change in that amount of time."

Elliot waved a finger at him. "You don't know what the—"

"John!" Cragen shouted into the phone. "John, wait! Let me put you on speaker phone."

"Munch got something?" Fin asked.

"Oh boy, has he got something," Cragen muttered, as he switched on the speaker phone. "Go ahead, John."

"The guy you're looking for is Edward Thomas Lister," Munch's voice said through the speaker. "He was recruited out of the Marines by the NSA into their Special Operations Force program, Spec-Op-For for short. Basically, he's an assassin working for the government—or he was, until he got captured by the North Koreans. Apparently Mr. Lister has been killing women on the side, and that was how the North Koreans caught him, after he murdered two women in the exact same manner as Jeanne Lu."

'Good lord,' Elliot thought with a sad shake of his head. 'What kind of monster have you become, Eddie?'

"Elliot knew him in the Marines, John," Cragen said. "He has history with this guy."

"I figured that," Munch said. "But, Cap, please listen to me. My informant says that the NYPD computer database was hacked into about a week ago. It may have been Lister, we don't know, but if it was, then Lister knows the location of every NYPD safe house in the tri-state area."

"Good God," McCoy muttered, as he exchanged a horrified glanced with Borgia.

"Then he knows where Casey is," Elliot said, as he grew cold all over. "And Olivia is with her now."

While everyone around him began speaking at once, Elliot pulled out his cell phone and dialed Olivia's number. 'Answer, Liv,' he thought desperately, as he listened to the phone ring, 'please answer me….'

**Five Minutes Earlier**

Casey smiled as she sat back in her chair at the kitchen table. "This guy sounds really nice, Liv."

"Yeah, like I've said, he's very, very…understanding!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Olivia regarded her empty teacup. "No, it's not. I don't know, I guess I'm becoming too cynical. Eric and I never really had a chance to get to know each other very well, and I'm still afraid that—once I finally get together with him—I'll find out that he has some kind of deep dark secret, or something."

Casey frowned. "You're getting that 'weirdo' vibe from him?"

"No, not really. You see he's invited me over to his house, where he wants to show me something. That's all he's been talking about for the last few days, how he wants to show me something. He won't tell me what it is, all he says is that he must show it to me once I'm in his house." Olivia shrugged. "I like surprises as much as the next woman, but this is sounding a little too cryptic for my taste."

"You sure what he wants to show you isn't in his pants?" Casey asked, point blank.

Olivia gave Casey a look of shock. "You know, I still remember when you first joined our squad, back when you were such a sweet little girl."

"I don't think I was ever a sweet little girl," Casey retorted.

"Don't kid yourself." Olivia excused herself when her cell phone rang. "Elliot!" she said, when she answered. "Did you know that we were just talking about—"

Casey glanced up from her tea and saw Olivia now had a somber mood as she listened intently.

"Oh shit," Olivia whispered. "Uh, yeah, look, I know where this motel is, so how about we meet you there? I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to. Yeah, ok."

Casey's hand was shaking slightly as she placed her teacup back on the table. There was something very wrong, that was obvious, but she struggled to keep a lid on her panic. She was going to remain calm, no matter what. Still, she glanced at all the windows, and was glad to see the curtains had been drawn on all of them. A sniper can't shoot what he can't see.

Olivia ended the call, got up from the table and said, "We're leaving now."

Casey also got up. She quickly slipped her shoes back on. "What is it?"

"The sniper, they know who he is," Olivia said. "It's some guy whom Elliot served with in the Marines. Apparently El was the target all along."

"He was actually shooting at Elliot?" Casey said, stunned. A part of her had felt instantly relieved that she had not been the target after all. Yet Casey still felt tremendous concern for Elliot. "How is he?"

"Elliot's fine, but there's another problem, it appears the sniper may know the location of all of the NYPD safe houses in the area, including this one. That's why we gotta get out of here right now."

"But if his real target's Elliot…" Casey started to say.

Olivia reached out and gently grasped Casey by her shoulders. "Lister, the sniper, is trying to get to Elliot through the people he cares about."

"Oh God," Casey whispered. The oppressive fear she felt made her blood run cold. "I-I'll go pack…"

"Leave everything," Olivia said. "Just take your coat."

"Done," Casey said, as she picked up her coat from the back of the chair and put it on. "Let's go."

Olivia shrugged on her jacket, removed her Glock from its holster, and gestured for Casey with her free hand. "C'mon."

Casey walked out of the kitchen with Olivia's hand on the nape of her neck the entire time. They quickly made their way through the house to the garage.

When Casey reached out to turn on the interior garage light, Olivia whispered, "No, keep it dark."

They crossed over to the doorway next to the main garage door. Opening the door, Casey saw that night had fallen, and in this suburban neighborhood without streetlights, the darkness was overwhelming. The surrounding woods, which looked so lovely earlier in the light of day, now appeared as a menacing wall of blackness against the starry sky. There were no other houses in the area that Casey could see. Casey could not help but note the irony that the very same isolation that originally made this safe house secure now worked against them.

"I should have moved the car into the garage earlier," Olivia whispered. "Shit…."

The squad car was barely five feet away from the doorway in which they stood. But the car was enveloped within the all-consuming darkness, and in that darkness was Lister. Casey didn't know how she knew, but deep down she sensed him out there, somewhere, watching her. And if he truly was out there, with his gun trained on them, then the mere five feet that separated them from the car may have well been five miles.

Staying in the doorway, Olivia made a sweep of the front lawn with her Glock, and then shook her head. "I don't like this…."

"I think there's someone out there," Casey said in a frightened whisper.

"I think you're right," Olivia replied. "Screw this, let's get back inside."

They shut the door and leaned up against it. "Elliot told me that the state police, along with the local boys, are coming," Olivia said, as she holstered her Glock. "So why don't we just wait for them right here, ok?"

"I really like that plan, Liv."

"I'm going to go close that door," Olivia said. "Stay here."

"Ok."

Olivia went over to the doorway that connected the garage to the rest of the house—

—and let out a startled cry of pain.

"LIV!" Casey screamed.

She ran over to the doorway, only to get knocked to the floor when something fell against her. It turned out to be Olivia.

Casey sat up on the floor and cradled the detective in her arms. At first Casey thought she was dead, until she checked Olivia's pulse and found it to be steady. Olivia was out cold. When her hand brushed up against something on Olivia's neck, Casey saw what appeared to be some kind of dart protruding from her skin.

Then Casey realized that she could SEE everything. She glanced up and saw the overhead light was on.

'Who the hell turned on the lights?' she wondered fearfully.

Casey slowly gazed over her shoulder.

The man who strode into the garage was dressed in all black. Casey couldn't see his face until he removed the night vision goggles from his eyes. He hung the goggles around one wrist as he casually stood staring at her. He was white, with black hair that was cut close to his head, and a goatee. But it was his eyes that caught Casey's attention: they were dead, soulless, and unblinking. When he stared at her, his gaze penetrated through her very core.

'The gun,' a small voice cried at the back of her mind, cutting through Casey's stark terror, 'get the gun!'

Casey glanced down at Olivia's prone form, and saw her Glock, which was in her hip holster. She abruptly grabbed it with both hands—

—just as something slammed into the side of her neck, knocking her over.

The pain was intense, and unbearable…until it abruptly subsided. When Casey opened her eyes, she realized that she now lay flat on her back on the floor. The light in the ceiling had a strange halo floating around it.

'The gun,' she thought, her mind feeling as if it were in a fog. 'I gotta get that gun!'

But she couldn't move her arms. In fact, Casey couldn't feel anything. She lay there, helpless, as the man's shadowy form stood over her body.

"Please," Casey weakly pleaded with him, "please, don't…."

The man hunched down over her. "Sleep my little princess," he said, his voice oddly gentle. "Go to sleep now."

That was the last thing Casey heard before the blackness consumed her.

** To Be Continued...**


	12. Between A Rock And A Hard Place

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Twelve: Between A Rock And A Hard Place**

**Elliot**

"No, no, no, no, no," Elliot whispered, over and over, like a mantra, as Fin pulled their squad car up to the safe house. There were at least a dozen police cars parked out front, along with a van from the New York State Police crime scene unit and an ambulance.

As he got out of the car, Elliot stared hard at the ambulance, and saw that the paramedics were just standing around, chatting casually. 'Does that mean they're all right?' he wondered frantically. 'Or are they dead?'

He ran from the car and up to the ambulance. "You guys treat anybody here?"

One of the paramedics, a woman, shook her head. "There's nobody here for us to treat, Detective."

Elliot glanced up the driveway, and his eyes grew wide when he saw Olivia's squad car was still parked there. He was further horrified to see that the car had been cordoned off, with state police crime scene technicians examining it. 'Oh dear God,' he thought, 'oh dear God please, no….'

"Elliot!" a man called.

He turned and saw Cragen walking briskly towards him. Munch followed close behind.

"Tell me they're all right," Elliot said, as he grabbed Cragen by the arms. "Please, Cap, just tell me that they're both ok."

But Cragen almost looked deflated, wounded, as he slowly shook his head.

"Elliot, they're not here." He held up two plastic evidence bags, each containing a badge. "These were left behind."

As Elliot stared at the badges his eyes grew wide with shock. They were Olivia's detective badge, and Casey's ADA badge. "He has them," he said softly. "Eddie has them both."

"Oh God," Fin whispered, stunned.

"Those were found in the garage," Cragen said. "There's a broken window at the other end of the house. The state police's CSU figures he entered the house through there, then surprised them in the garage."

"Was there any blood found?" Elliot asked. "Is there any sign they might have been injured, or…?" He couldn't bring himself to say that Olivia and Casey might be dead.

"There was nothing found in the house to indicate anything like that," Cragen said. "In fact, there weren't any signs of a struggle at all."

"They could still be alive, then?" Fin asked hopefully.

"Not while they're with that crazy bastard," Elliot said dismally. "This is all my fault."

"That's nonsense, Elliot," Cragen told him.

Elliot flashed back to that hotel room, to Eddie's smug smile, as he reached down to break the neck of that poor, helpless girl. Elliot had stopped him then, but not permanently. And because of that the bastard had gone on to commit even greater evil, including abducting two of the women who meant the most to him in the world. "I should have killed him when I had the chance."

"Listen to me, you did everything you could back then," Cragen said. "Don't blame yourself for any of this. And understand something, Elliot: until somebody shows me otherwise, as far as I'm concerned, both Olivia and Casey are still alive, and as long as they're alive, we're gonna do everything we can to find them, all right?"

"Yeah," Elliot replied curtly. The rage and hatred he held for Eddie Lister still churned within him. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his fingers around Lister's neck and choke the very life out of him once and for all.

"Both the state and county police have had road blocks set up within a 30 miles radius emanating from this point for the past half hour," Cragen informed him. "They've been looking over every vehicle they come across, and so far, nothing."

"The crime scene team found a pair of teacups on the kitchen table inside," Munch said. "One of the cups is half empty, and the tea is lukewarm."

'If the tea had been cold, they could have been gone for hours,' Elliot thought. 'But since it's still warm…' Elliot nodded when he realized the significance of that. "So they've only been abducted very recently. Which means they're still on the island, maybe even still in the area."

"Exactly," Cragen said. "He couldn't have gotten very far with them. It's just a matter of finding them in time."

A New York state trooper appeared in the doorway of the house. "Captain Cragen?"

"Yes?" Cragen called back.

"They want you inside, sir," the trooper said.

Elliot was about to join Cragen, Munch and Fin as they walked towards the house until his cell phone rang. He remembered that Kathy had left a message at the stationhouse saying that she would call him if she needed anything. "I'll join you in a second," he said, taking out his cell phone. "It's probably Kathy."

"All right," Fin replied, as they all walked off.

"Yeah?" Elliot said when he answered the phone.

"Is this the high and mighty Elliot Stabler?" Edward Lister asked. "Are you still so high and mighty now, or have I managed to knock you down a peg?"

"Eddie, what are you doing?" Elliot asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Oh, so now it's 'Eddie' again, huh?" Lister said sarcastically. "Suddenly you've sat up and taken notice of me once I've grabbed your girlfriend and your partner. Tell me, have you screwed Detective Benson, as well, Elliot? I wonder if she will call out your name while I'm giving it to her later? Not that I'd mind in any case. She'll be gagged."

'Olivia's still alive,' Elliot thought with relief. 'And if Liv's still alive, then there's a very good chance that Casey was, as well.' There was something else, a strange noise underneath Lister's words. It sounded like a low rumbling sound, but Elliot couldn't quite make out what it was. 'I gotta keep this prick talking!'

"Eddie, I thought you were dead all this time," Elliot said. "They told me you were killed in a chopper accident."

"Like you really cared either way whether I was alive or dead," he said. "You were the one who betrayed me in the beginning."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come off it, you know full well what I'm referring to," Lister snarled. "I was planning on spending the rest of my life in the Marines, Elliot. And because of you and your bullshit Boy Scout heroics, I was kicked out! That bitch in the hotel room was a stinking whore, Elliot! We were brothers in arms, we had an allegiance, and you wound up selling me out for a cheap frigging whore!"

'Yeah, that's it, scumbag,' Elliot thought, 'keep talking.' The rumbling sound he heard under Lister's voice now grew in volume. Was Lister driving around, and approaching whatever it was that made that noise? "I heard you still did pretty well for yourself afterwards, Eddie."

"As if I had a choice: either be locked away for the rest of my life or become an assassin! You know what happened to me? You ever spend any time in a North Korean prison, Elliot?"

"No, can't say that I have, Eddie." The rumbling sound underneath Lister's voice had now reached a crescendo, and then it began to fade into the background once more. And Elliot realized what it was.

'A train,' he thought, slowly nodding his head. 'He's by a railroad track.'

"Well, it wasn't very pleasant, I can assure you," Lister said, his voice calming. And once more, in the background, another rumbling sound could be heard. Like the first sound, this also steadily grew in pitch.

'Another train,' Elliot realized, his eyes grew wide when he realized where Lister was. 'I've got you now, you son of a bitch!'

"In fact, I'm going to show you just how unpleasant it was for me. I'll do to Benson everything that was done to me, Elliot. And in case she dies before I'm finished, then I'll just leave you some notes about the rest—I'll carve them right onto her corpse. Semper Fi, baby."

The rage within Elliot to flared up like a volcano. "Eddie, look, you're really pissed off at me because you think I screwed up your life? Fine. Just tell me where and when, and the two of us will get together and settle this man to man. I won't be a cop when we meet, we'll just be a couple of Marines with a score to settle. You hear me? Let the women go, and it'll just be you and me. All right?"

"Oh, but where's the fun in that, Elliot?" Lister said. "You utterly ruined my life, and so the least I can do is utterly ruin yours before I kill you. But don't worry, I'll be sure to leave the bodies of Novak and Benson in a place where you can find them."

The phone line went dead just then.

Elliot broke into a mad dash for the house, almost running into a trooper who was coming out the front door. When he entered, he found Cragen, Fin and Munch, along with a group of troopers, crime scene techs, and local cops. The scene was bustling, with everybody moving around and talking all at once. Cragen stood looking over a map with a State Police lieutenant.

Elliot stood up on a chair and bellowed: "EXCUSE ME!"

Everyone in the room abruptly grew silent as they all stared right at him as if he were insane.

Elliot held up his cell phone and said, "I just got a call from Edward Lister, and I need to know the location of the nearest train yard right now!"

**Olivia**

"Oh, but where's the fun in that, Elliot?" Lister said into the cell phone. "You utterly ruined my life, and so the least I can do is utterly ruin yours before I kill you. But don't worry, I'll be sure to leave the bodies of Novak and Benson in a place where you can find them."

Olivia watched fearfully as Lister shut off the cell—it was her own cell phone—and tossed it onto the bed. She warily stared at him as he came over and sat down on the edge of the bed. Outside, another train rumbled by, this one sounding its horn. Olivia wished to God that she and Casey were on it. She just wished they were anyplace but here.

When Olivia awoke earlier, she found herself stripped of her jacket and shoes and seated in a wooden chair. Her wrists had been bound behind her back with her own handcuffs, and duct tape secured her ankles to the front legs of the chair that she sat in. It didn't take her long to realize that she was completely at the mercy of this demented bastard. And the worst part of it was she was alone with him. Casey was nowhere to be seen in the dingy bedroom. Olivia was deeply concerned about Casey's whereabouts. Did this bastard already kill her?

And was Olivia now his next victim?

'I don't want to die,' she thought, as she dropped her head in despair, 'not here, not like this. But if I am to be killed here, at least let me go out fighting. Allow me to give this bastard a few good licks to remember me by. The CSU can get the evidence they need from my body, they can get his skin from under my fingernails, after I've clawed his eyes out. Just please, please, give me the chance to at least fight back!'

When she glanced up, Olivia was startled to see Lister now gazed right at her as he thoughtfully stroked his goatee. She wanted nothing more right now than to talk with him, to bond with him, to argue with him, anything to postpone the horrible end to her life that she knew was coming. But her mouth was covered with tape, preventing even that last sliver of hope.

"For what it's worth, detective," Lister said, leaning towards her, "this is nothing personal. You are merely a victim of my vengeance against Elliot Stabler. I was originally only going to abduct Ms. Novak, and kill you at the house. But when I saw who you were…well, how could I resist also abducting Elliot's partner as well as his lover?"

He stood up. "Speaking of Ms. Novak, she should be waking up now as well. Excuse me while I go make her 'comfortable'."

Olivia let out a cry of rage, which was stifled by her gag, as she tried once more to free herself of her bonds. It soon proved to be a futile gesture, and she laid her head back in frustration.

'Casey,' she thought with deep regret, 'I am so sorry!'

**Edward**

As Edward Lister walked out of the room where Benson was held captive, he thought, 'Revenge may well be a dish that is best served cold, but is also a dish that tastes very sweet.'

It was simply unbelievable how easily everything fell into place for him once he snuck back into the United States. After the years of agony and torture at the hands of the North Koreans, and his nerve-wracking escape to freedom, the relative ease he enjoyed in bringing justice to Elliot Stabler, the man who had ruined his life all those years ago, almost seemed to be heaven-sent. If Lister actually believed in God, he would be on his knees in thankful prayer.

But that sort of thing was for the weak-minded. And Edward Thomas Lister was anything but weak. He had always been a predator who took what he wanted—that was the one thing that Elliot never truly understood. And that was the lesson that he will now be taught, written in the blood of the ones whom he loved. Tonight it will be Benson and Novak, and starting tomorrow, Lister planned to hunt down Stabler's children.

Lister smiled as he entered the bedroom where he kept Novak. He realized that this was more than just justice that he meted out to Elliot Stabler; it was sheer poetry.

"Rise and shine, Ms. Novak," he said, still smiling, "it's time for you to—"

He stared in numb shock at the bed, where he had left the unconscious woman.

The bed was now empty.

"What the hell?" Lister said, as he glanced around the room. He even checked under the bed. But Casey Novak was gone. He ran over and opened the closet door, then shuddered inwardly at the sight of half a dozen cockroaches, all almost the size of his fist, which scurried into the shadows.

Those roaches, they reminded him of back when he was a prisoner in North Korea, where they locked him in the cell in total darkness, and the roaches had crawled all over him, and, and…

'No, she wouldn't be in there,' Lister thought as he quickly shut the closet door. Novak woke up sooner than he had expected and made a break for it. He had been so busy making sure that Benson—the big bad NYPD detective—wouldn't cause him any trouble, that he completely underestimated the ADA.

'Well, I'll make her regret that,' Lister thought darkly. He ran out of the bedroom and into the hallway. When he poked head into Benson's room, the bound detective stared at him cagily from her seat. He searched all around her room, looking under the bed, before running out to the hallway once more.

'Novak must be well free and clear of the house by now,' Lister realized, as he ran down the staircase towards the front door. 'But she can't get very far on this chilly night without her coat and shoes.' That was why he removed them from both women in the first place, just in case there was an escape attempt, they would be slowed down without adequate protection from the weather, as well as the debris-strewn ground that surrounded this building.

Yet once he reached the front door, Lister discovered that it was still locked from within. Novak never left the building!

Puzzled, he turned around and stared at the first floor of the old warehouse they were in. The downstairs was a vast storage area that was completely empty. If Novak were hiding down here, he would have easily seen her by now.

Shaking his head, Lister said, "Where the hell is she?"

**Casey. Five Minutes Earlier.**

Casey awoke with a start, and for a split second, she had thought the past few days had been nothing but a bad dream. But it took only a few seconds of taking in her surroundings before Casey realized that she was trapped in a waking nightmare. She wasn't home, nor was she even at the safe house. And when she touched the sore spot on her throat, she recalled with horror how she got the wound—from a tranquilizer dart fired by the sniper, Lister. He had captured Olivia and her at the safe house.

"Liv?" she whispered, quickly getting to her feet. Casey suddenly collapsed back down into a sitting position on the bed when she felt very wobbly. Apparently whatever tranquilizer that bastard used to knock her out still hadn't completely worn off. 'Where the hell am I?' she wondered with alarm. 'And where's Liv?'

She heard a man's voice speaking faintly outside the room. Casey slowly stood up, and when she felt steady enough to walk, she tiptoed over to the door. She could hear a man was speaking through the door, yet she could not make out his words. And so she cautiously opened the door just a crack, and peered outside. The hallway was a jumble of junked furniture, construction equipment, and wooden crates.

Casey overheard a man—no doubt it was Lister—who said: "For what it's worth, detective, this is nothing personal. You are merely a victim of my vengeance against Elliot Stabler. I was originally only going to abduct Ms. Novak, and kill you at the house. But when I saw who you were…well, how could I resist also abducting Elliot's partner as well as his lover?"

'Olivia's still alive, thank God!' Casey thought. It sounded like they were just down the hall.

"Speaking of Ms. Novak, she should be waking up now as well," Lister said. "Excuse me while I go make her 'comfortable'."

Casey's eyes grew wide with fear when she realized that Lister was coming here. She was about to frantically dash out into the hall, but she could hear his footsteps out there; she would easily be recaptured. Casey would have to hide somewhere in the room.

She frantically looked around until she saw the other door. She opened it and discovered that it was a closet.

A closet filled with cockroaches.

Casey cringed when she saw them scatter from the light, a collection of large black teardrop shapes with multiple legs and twitching antennae. They each appeared to be the size of her hand. With nowhere else to go—and with Lister's footsteps growing louder the closer he approached the room—Casey quickly stepped into the closet and shut the door behind her.

She let out a stifled groan when she stepped on one of the roaches with her sock-covered foot, and then, shuddering, pressed herself up against the wall by the side of the door.

"Rise and shine, Ms. Novak," she heard Lister say in the room outside, "it's time for you to—" There was silence, as he obviously saw that she no longer lay on the bed. And then he said, "What the hell?"

Casey pressed herself up against the wall as much as she could, her hands out flat against the wood panels, as she listened in terror to Lister stomping around the room outside in his search for her. When she felt something crawl over her right hand, she flung it off, letting out a little squeal.

The closet door was abruptly flung open, and the light that spilled inside exposed a large group of roaches on the floor right in front of Casey. Fleeing the light, the roaches scattered into the shadows.

And they were all heading right towards her.

Casey's eyes were as wide as saucers as she held her breath and clamped both hands over her nose and mouth. Stuck in a tiny space with a colony of slimy cockroaches crawling all around her, and a deadly psychopath looming in the doorway, Casey didn't know how much worse this situation could get. But she did know that she was presently at the very end of the limits of her sanity.

'Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm,' she ordered herself. She continued to stand as still as a statute, with her hands over her nose and mouth, while feeling something with a half dozen little feet crawl over her sock-covered foot and up her pant's leg.

The closet door slammed shut, throwing her into darkness once more. Casey remained as still as she could for a few seconds longer; she wanted to make sure Lister was completely gone before she made her move. Yet when her lungs threatened to burst, along with the creepy sensation of her little intruder continuing its investigation of her leg, she finally reached for the doorknob and ran out into the bedroom with a gasp of air. Casey violently shook her foot, causing the cockroach that crawled up her leg to fall out and, once it hit the floor, quickly skitter off into a corner.

Casey shuddered fiercely, rubbing her hands all over her head and body to make sure no more of the little bastards were still crawling on her. Then, once she got a steady grip on herself, she walked over to the door. When she stepped out into the hallway, Casey was startled when Lister emerged from the room adjacent to her own. But he never saw her; instead he ran down the hallway and descended a flight of steps.

Casey ran to the doorway that he had just came out of, and found herself staring in shock at Olivia, who stared back at her with equal wide-eyed astonishment. Casey was stunned to see that Lister had bound Olivia to a chair.

"Oh, God," Casey whispered, as she ran over and pulled off the tape from Olivia's lips.

As soon as the tape was removed from her mouth, Olivia asked, "Are you all right, Casey?"

Casey, who knelt down before the detective to untie her ankles, could not help but stare up at Olivia with amazement. 'She's the one trussed to a chair and she's asking _ME_ if I'm all right?' Casey thought with no small bemusement. 'That's Liv for you; ever the protective lioness.'

"I'm good, Liv," she replied. "You?"

"I'll be great once these cuffs are off of me," Olivia said uneasily. She nodded at the table. "The keys are over there."

"Yeah, I see them," Casey replied. Once she finished freeing Olivia's ankles, she retrieved the keys from the table and used them to unlock the handcuffs.

No sooner was Olivia completely free than she grabbed Casey's hand and led her over to the door, where she cautiously peered down the hallway.

As they both stepped into the hallway, Casey accidentally stubbed her toe against the leg of a table that was set against a wall. However, the leg was loosely attached to the table, and as Casey watched in horror the leg fell out from under the table, and the table itself, along with several heavy boxes that it supported, all came crashing to the floor.

After the ruckus was over, Casey, in a meek little whisper, asked, "You think he heard that?"

Olivia just gave her an exasperated look.

**Edward**

Edward Lister was startled to hear what sounded like an avalanche upstairs. He realized that Novak had never left the second floor at all. She hid up there, probably in that roach-infested closet, and now she and Benson were running around loose.

"You little bitch!" he snarled, as he ran back up the stairs.

'No more games,' Lister thought, as he pulled out the Glock and released the safety. 'They both die right now!'

**Olivia**

"He heard that," Olivia said grimly, as she heard Lister come pounding up the steps. She grabbed the broken table leg and hefted up in her hands, feeling the weight. It felt like a nice, solid piece of wood.

'Perfect,' Olivia thought, with a quick nod of her head.

"Wait here," she told Casey. Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she then broke into a run towards the top of the steps, and as she did so, Olivia swung the table leg up and behind her like a baseball bat.

Just Edward Lister reached the top of the stairs Olivia pounced on him, swinging the table leg right at him with all of her might. It struck the man square in the chest, causing him to let out a surprised "URK!"

Olivia burst into a broad grin as she watched Lister careen head-first back down the stairs. He landed flat on his back at the bottom of the staircase with his arms and legs sprawled out—however, he still held onto the gun. Olivia thought about charging at him with the table leg once more, but she didn't want to get risk getting caught on the stairs if Lister woke up and aimed the gun at her.

Casey appeared at her side. "You kill him?" she asked hopefully.

"No," Olivia replied with disappointment. They both watched as Lister, still stunned from his fall down the flight of stairs, began to stir once more.

'Why is it these really nasty scumbags are always the hardest to kill?' Olivia thought with disgust. She grabbed Casey's hand once more and said, "Come on."

"Where to?" Casey asked, as she allowed Olivia to pull her down the hallway. "I think that's the only way out."

"There's always another way out," Olivia said. She paused when she saw a window at the far end of the hallway. "And there it is."

Upon arriving at the window, Olivia glanced out and was satisfied to see that there was a roof that sloped out from just underneath the windowsill. It would be hairy, but they could slide down to the ground outside. The window was painted shut, so Olivia simply smashed the glass out with the table leg.

'If we survive this night,' Olivia thought, as she gazed lovingly at the piece of wood. 'I'm gonna have this damn thing bronzed!'

"We don't have jackets," Casey reminded her, "or shoes."

"So we either take our chances with the elements, or stay here and wait for that sick bastard to kill us," Olivia told her.

"Good point," Casey said flatly. "Let's go."

Olivia went out the window first, and she tried to ignore the frigid weather as she helped Casey over the glass shards that stuck out of the windowsill. Once they were both on the roof, Olivia released the table leg. She needed both of her hands in order to climb down to the edge. Although she slowly and carefully made her way down the roof, Olivia kept an eye on the window, hoping they wouldn't be unlucky enough to get caught on the roof with Lister aiming his gun at them.

When they finally made it to the edge of the roof, Olivia grabbed onto the ledge and let her legs swing over the side. Casey did the same, and she glanced over her shoulder with a fearful look. "Oh God, that's quite a drop!"

'Shit, she's right,' Olivia realized, when she glanced down at the ground, which appeared so very far away. "Casey, just hang on!"

She let herself hang down as far as her arms reached, and then she let go. When Olivia hit the soft earth, she tried to roll her body to absorb as much of the impact as she possibly could. But she still landed hard on her right foot, and Olivia let out a cry as her ankle exploded in pain.

Casey, who still hung from the edge of the roof, stared down at her with concern. "Liv?"

"I'm fine," Olivia said through gritted teeth. She forced herself to stand up, favoring her bad leg, and held her hands up. "Let go, Casey."

Casey released her grip on the roof's ledge and fell into Olivia's arms. Olivia did not catch her so much as she provided a soft spot for her to fall into. Both women fell to the ground in each other's arms.

Despite the tense situation, and the extreme pain from her ankle, Olivia still couldn't help but note with some slight amusement that she was once more in the arms of yet another ADA. 'Alex, honey, wherever you are, this is not what it seems!'

As Olivia got to her feet, she cringed in pain as she tried to put her weight back on her right foot. She tried walking once more, but wound up hobbling in pain until Casey caught her.

"Is it broken?" Casey asked.

Olivia bent down felt the ankle, and it was already swelling. "I don't know," she said with despair. "I can't walk on the frigging thing."

"C'mon," Casey said, as she grabbed Olivia's right arm. "Put your arm over my shoulder."

Casey helped Olivia to stand up—until Olivia noticed that Casey abruptly froze in place. Casey stared up at something with sheer horror etched on her face.

Olivia glanced up at the window from where they had just escaped.

Edward Lister stood at the window.

He had a broad smile on his face as he aimed the Glock right at them.

**To Be Continued….**


	13. Catching Up With An Old Friend

**Allegiance**

**Chapter Thirteen: Catching UpWith An Old Friend**

**Cragen**

Cragen let out a sigh as he leaned up against the front of the car. Munch was beside him, his hands in his coat pockets, staring dejectedly at the ground. Just ahead of them Elliot paced back and forth like an angry panther in a cage. Fin stood staring intently at the vast rail yard that lay spread out before them.

"This is bullshit, Captain," Elliot said furiously.

"I know," Cragen replied. He shared Elliot's frustration at this situation. Once they found this place—thanks to Elliot—Lieutenant Carbine of the New York State Police had decided to position his men around the perimeter, surrounding the train yard, until they received more manpower to go inside to do a thorough search. While Carbine thought his was a sound tactic, this was still Olivia and Casey's lives at stake here. Cragen and his boys were raring to get in there and help them.

But the rail yard was a vast complex, with a multitude of buildings, both abandoned and still in use, all spread out over an immense network of train tracks. Even if the four of them started searching on their own, they wouldn't even cover half of the rail yard in one evening. They had no choice but to wait for extra manpower from the state police to come in. And that was taking way too long, in Cragen's estimation.

Cragen glanced up at Fin, who still stood staring at the rail yard. "See anything, Fin?"

"Nah," Fin growled. "Can't see shit."

"Elliot's right, this is bullshit, Captain," Munch said darkly.

"Yes it is," Cragen agreed. "But I remind you yet again that this is Long Island, and we are out of our jurisdiction. We have no choice but to follow the troopers' lead for now...no matter how frustrating it is."

Elliot stopped pacing and said, "And God only knows what Lister's doing to Liv and Casey while we're standing around here, holding our dic—"

He was interrupted by the sound of gunfire in the distance.

"THERE!" Fin pointed. "I saw a muzzle flash in the second story window of that building right there!"

Elliot ran up next to him. "That building right on the edge there?"

"Yeah, the one with the faded billboard on the side, see?"

"All right, c'mon," Cragen said, as he pulled out his gun. "Let's go!"

But Elliot was already gone. He had taken off running like a shot towards the building in the rail yard even before Cragen gave the order. It took everything they had for Cragen, Munch and Fin just to keep up behind him.

Elliot quickly jumped over a train track, but Cragen, Munch and Fin stopped short when a freight train suddenly appeared from around a bend, rumbling by right in front of them. They were cut off from Elliot until the train had finished passing.

"We would get the longest train in history!" Munch said, agitated. "How long is this thing, twelve miles?"

"There's the caboose," Cragen pointed hopefully.

"That ain't the caboose," Fin said dourly.

Cragen saw that he was right, it was just another boxcar—one in a long line of boxcars that stretched back as far as the eye could see. "I think this damn train really is twelve miles long!" he said with aggravation.

**Casey. A few minutes earlier.**

Casey froze in sheer terror once she saw Lister aim the gun at them from the window. 'Dear God,' she thought, 'I'm going to d—'

"MOVE!" Olivia screamed, as she shoved Casey right into the wall.

Casey grunted as the force of Olivia's shove bashed her up against the aluminum sliding on the wall. But she certainly didn't mind, for Olivia had just saved their lives. By abruptly pressing themselves up against he side of the building, just under the sloped roof, they were effectively out of the line of Lister's fire. Casey flinched when she heard the gun above them erupt, letting loose a barrage of bullets that rained on the ground directly ahead of them.

"Get moving," Olivia told her. "But stay close to the wall. I'll be right behind you."

As she made her way along the side of the wall, Casey glanced back and saw that Olivia used the building itself as support for her bum ankle. She was making good time, until Olivia abruptly stopped and pointed at something that was in front of Casey.

Casey was stunned to see Edward Lister, who now stood on the ground in front of her. He had obviously slid down the roof just as they had. He reached out and grabbed her by the neck. Casey let out a choked-off grunt as Lister effortlessly lifted her off of her feet and held her up close to his body. Casey stopped fighting once he aimed the gun right at her head.

"Get over here," Lister said to Olivia in a low, scary tone of voice.

"NO! Get away, Liv!" Casey cried. "RUN!"

"Yeah, Liv, go ahead and run," Lister said, mockingly. "Run, and Casey dies right here, right now. But if you come over here, then I'll let the both of you live."

"Ok," Olivia said, as she held her hands up. "Just think about this for a moment, all right? There's no need for you to do this."

"Spare me that hostage negotiation bullshit," Lister coldly said, "and get over here. Now."

Olivia looked up at something behind them, and abruptly burst into a broad smile of relief.

Lister rapidly swung around in the opposite direction, pulling Casey about with him. She then saw what Olivia had seen, and it was the most beautiful, awe-inspiring sight that Casey had ever seen in her life to that point.

Elliot Stabler slowly walked up to them, aiming his gun at Edward Lister.

"Hey Eddie," he said, his voice calm and casual. "Long time no see."

**Elliot**

Elliot had his Glock aimed right at Lister's head, but the bastard quickly realized that and kept Casey's head in front of his, blocking Elliot's line of fire. Although her eyes were wide and tear-filled, and Lister's Glock was aimed straight into her right cheek, Casey still gave him a broad smile.

"Hey, kid," he said with deep affection. "Hang in there, ok?"

"She'll be just fine," Lister said, "as long as you do exactly what I say. Benson, this is your lucky day! Get over by Elliot."

Olivia exchanged a look of disbelief with Elliot before she hobbled over to him. Elliot held out his left hand to her while still aiming his Glock with his right. When she got close enough, Elliot pulled Olivia towards him and gave her a tight hug with one arm. She briefly rested her head on his shoulder.

"You ok?" Elliot asked. He still stared at Lister, aiming the Glock at him.

"I busted my ankle," she replied. Olivia was also trembling, no doubt from standing in the freezing cold without her jacket. "I can't walk."

Lister began to back away from them slowly, holding Casey in front of him all the while. "Now the both of you just stay there," he said. "While Ms. Novak and I bid you farewell."

'Where the hell's Cragen, Munch and Fin?' Elliot wondered. 'They should have been here by now.' He realized that he had to stall Lister in any way possible. "Hey Eddie?"

"Yes, Elliot?" he said from behind Casey.

"I've got something to tell you."

"And what would that be, Elliot?"

"You have the right to remain silent. If you give up this right, then anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you do not—"

"Give me a break, Elliot."

"I'm trying to!" Elliot shot back. "This place is surrounded by the state police. There's nowhere for you to go, man. Just give it up."

"And be arrested by you?" Lister asked, as he continued backing up with Casey as his hostage. "No thanks. I'll see you around, Elliot."

Elliot's heart broke when he saw Casey give him one last, longing look before Lister pulled her out of sight around a corner.

Olivia shook her head. "He's gonna kill her the first chance he gets."

"I know." Elliot holstered his Glock, and then he removed his coat and gave it to Olivia, who immediately put it on. His coat was so big on her that it gave her the appearance of wearing a baggy robe.

Elliot did a double take when he saw a long train snaking through the rail yard. That train wasn't there before. "Shit. I think I know what's holding up Cragen and the others. That train."

He pulled out a .22 caliber auto from his ankle holster and gave it to Olivia.

She gave him a strange look, but didn't say anything. Still, Elliot knew what caused her puzzlement: he normally didn't pack an extra piece like this except only on special occasions, and this was one of them.

"My cell phone's in the inside right pocket," he told her, pointing at his coat. "Call Cragen and tell him I'm headed East after Lister and Casey."

"Will do, and be careful!" Olivia called after him.

Elliot raced down to the end of the building. When he got to the corner, he carefully peered around, his gun at the ready. He just caught a glimpse of Lister dragging Casey behind a freight car. Casey had her hands together in front of her, as if she were in prayer. Her wrists could have been bound, but he didn't get long enough a look to be sure.

Elliot broke into a run, holding his gun out before him. When he got to the edge of the freight car, he paused and peered around the corner.

There was nobody there.

'What the hell?' Elliot thought.

Beyond the freight car it opened up into a broad area of empty train tracks, about the size of an acre, before the ground dropped off sharply. Lister couldn't have covered an area this large, especially while hauling a hostage.

'Where are they?' he wondered. And then Elliot glanced at the freight car that he stood next to. 'Could they be inside?'

Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye, and Elliot stared up just in time to see Lister diving off the roof of the freight car, coming down right on top of him.

Elliot tried to bring up his gun to fire, but Lister slammed into him just then, knocking him to the ground.

"Hi, Elliot," Lister said into his ear. "Just couldn't leave without giving you a little love tap."

He punched Elliot hard in the stomach just then, and when Lister made a motion to punch him again, Elliot brought up his leg and kneed him hard in the groin. That forced Lister off of Elliot, who raised his gun—only to discover to his horror that he no longer held the gun in his hand.

Elliot saw his Glock on the ground about a foot away from him. He reached out to grab the gun—

—just as Lister kicked him hard in the side.

The kick sent Elliot helplessly rolling over the ground, past the gun, and before he could even get his bearings, Lister came over and kicked him again.

Yet when Lister came up to kick Elliot a third time, he was in for a surprise. Just as Lister swung his foot forward, Elliot abruptly reached out and grabbed it with both hands.

Lister had a stunned expression on his face as Elliot savagely twisted his foot, causing Lister to fall helplessly to the ground. Once Lister landed, Elliot was on top of him; he delivered three brutal punches to Lister's face, with the last punch causing Lister's nose to burst open with blood.

Elliot let out an angry growl when Lister flung a handful of gravel into his face. In the instant he took to clear his vision, Lister was back on his feet.

Elliot glanced up just in time to see Lister deliver a kick right to his face. And then everything went numb as the entire world fell sideways. But Elliot knew that wasn't the case; Lister's kick had knocked him down and almost knocked him unconscious.

'Stay awake, stay the hell awake,' Elliot ordered himself. He could slowly sense feeling coming back to his body, but he still couldn't move anything. He stared up at Lister, who loomed over him threateningly.

"I'm not going to kill you," Lister announced. "I could have killed you in Novak's office. And I'm not going to kill you here. No, you see, I still like my idea of getting to you through your loved ones, Elliot."

Suddenly, Lister glanced up as the reflection of emergency lights shone on his face. "Looks like you weren't kidding when you said there were cops coming."

When the feeling finally returned to Elliot's body, it was accompanied by sheer, agonizing pain. It was struggle for him to simply lift his arm. When he heard a train horn blare, he saw there was another freight train rumbling just below the rise they both stood on.

"I guess we'll just have to continue this game some other time," Lister said, wiping blood from his damaged nose. "Good bye, Elliot. When next we meet, it'll be over the body of one of your kids. Semper Fi, baby."

The thought of this monster going after his children, the horrifying image of Maureen, Elizabeth, Liz and Dickie all cowering in fear from this sick bastard, was all the fuel that Elliot needed. "You better kill me now, Eddie," he snarled. "Because the only way you're ever getting near my kids is over my dead body!"

Lister smugly laughed at him as he spun around and walked away.

Elliot found the inner strength to lunge forward and grab Lister's foot in mid-step. He pulled Lister's foot up, tripping the man and causing him to fall over the top of the rise they were on.

Once Lister disappeared over the rise, Elliot stood up and charged forward to resume the fight. He stopped when he saw that Lister had slipped on the loose gravel, and rolled down the slope of the rise—

—and landed right on the train tracks.

When the bright light of the oncoming freight train's locomotive illuminated him, Edward Lister had barely a second to stare in open-mouth terror at it before the train ran him over.

Elliot let out a bark of laughter—then stopped when that proved to be very painful. As the freight train continued to rumble on by below him, Elliot whispered, "Semper Fi, asshole."

He wondered where the hell Casey was during all of this. He recalled that Lister had jumped him from the freight car; maybe that was where Casey was…he hoped.

As he walked back to the freight car, Elliot bent over to retrieve his gun from the ground. This simple effort caused him great pain, and it made him wonder if his ribs were broken. He resumed walking, and, playing a hunch, went up to the freight car from which Lister jumped him. He called out Casey's name.

He was relieved to hear her call back from within the freight car. Elliot grimaced in pain as he slid the side door open, and was rewarded with the sight of Casey, alive and well. At least as well as she could be, considering Casey stood awkwardly on her tip-toes with her wrists handcuffed to a hook on the wall above her head.

Gritting his teeth at the pain, Elliot climbed inside the car. Casey regarded him with concern as he approached her. "Elliot, are you all right?"

"You should see the other guy," he jokingly said, as he released her wrists from the handcuffs with a key.

As soon as her arms were free, Casey tightly hugged Elliot—which caused him to groan very loudly. Casey immediately pulled away as she timidly said, "Sorry. Where are you hurt?"

"Forget it," he said, as he embraced her again. "I'm just glad you're safe. C'mon, let's get back to Liv."

"What happened to Lister?" she asked.

"Run over by a train," Elliot replied, as they climbed out of the freight car.

Casey regarded him anxiously. "Did you give him any help?"

Elliot chuckled as he removed his suit jacket and gave it to her to wear. "I didn't push him, if that's what you're implying."

"Even if you did, nobody would blame you," Casey told him as she slipped his jacket on. "Thanks."

About a half dozen troopers of the New York State Police emerged from around the side of the freight car. They drew their guns and ordered Elliot to raise his hands, even after Elliot identified himself as a police officer.

"He's all right!" Casey shouted at them. "I'm Casey Novak…you know, the hostage? This man just saved my life!"

It was only when Fin and Munch appeared and vouched for Elliot that the troopers finally relented. Elliot briefed them on what happened, and where they could find Lister's body, assuming the train didn't smear it too badly from here to Montauk. Munch and Fin went with the troopers to check out Lister's body while Elliot and Casey walked back to Olivia.

Once they returned to the front of the building, they found Olivia leaning up against a pile of crates amid a group of police officers, both troopers and county boys. When Olivia saw them coming, she burst into a broad smile and limped over to Casey.

"No, Liv," Casey said, "you shouldn't put any weight on that ank—"

Casey was cut off when Olivia grabbed her in a tight embrace. Both women held each other briefly as Elliot gingerly took a seat on the pile of crates.

Olivia's smile faded when she saw how much pain Elliot was in. "You all right, El?"

"Oh, yeah," Elliot said, as let out a deep sigh. "I feel much better now that Edward Lister is gone."

After he explained to her what had happened with Lister, Olivia nodded with satisfaction. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," she said bluntly. "Look, they've got a bus coming for me. But maybe you should take it instead, Elliot."

Elliot started to laugh, until he stopped when it hurt once more. "Oh man, I look that bad, huh?" He grew solemn as he glanced at Casey and Olivia, who both sat on the crate on either side of him. He put his arms around the both of them and softly said, "Come here."

"Elliot, your ribs!" Casey fretted.

"Never mind my ribs. I just…." He broke off, getting choked up with emotion. "For a while there, I thought I lost you two. And now I just wanna…oh, just me a hug, will ya?"

The three of them warmly embraced at the same time, with Casey and Olivia resting their heads on each of his shoulders, and Elliot savored the moment for as long as it lasted.

They broke their embrace when Munch and Fin approached. "They found Lister," Munch said. "Or what's left of him. He's been sliced clean in half."

"Man when you go off on somebody, you don't mess around, do ya?" Fin said with a grin. He turned to Munch and added, "Remind me to never get this guy mad at me, huh?"

"That goes double for me," Munch replied.

Cragen appeared with Lieutenant Carbine of the state police. Like everyone else, Cragen gave Elliot a pained look of concern. "You ok?"

"It hurts like a son of a bitch," Elliot admitted. "But I'll live, Cap. Hell, I'm doing far better than Eddie Lister is right now."

"What happened to Lister?" Carbine asked.

Elliot thought about it for a second—and then, with a pleasant air, said, "Eddie caught the train."

Munch and Fin both let out low groans at that. Cragen grimaced while Lieutenant Carbine stared at him in puzzlement.

"Oh Jeez, Elliot," Casey said with a shake of her head.

Olivia gave him a disgusted look. "You were just waiting to say that, weren't you?"

Elliot simply smiled serenely at her.

**...to be concluded in the next, and final, chapter. **


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue: One Week Later**

**Epilogue I**

**Casey Novak**

Casey Novak went to the hospital room with some trepidation. When she called Elliot and told him that she would stop by today, he told her that she might run into Kathy and the kids, who would also be there.

At first, Casey was tempted to call off her visit, stating she had business to attend to at work—and that wouldn't be a lie, for since she returned to her job at the D.A.'s office, Casey had been confronted by a mountain of paperwork. But she realized that the real, deeper reason would be she wanted to avoid seeing Kathy. She had met Kathy before, but this would be the first time Casey had seen Elliot's ex-wife as his lover. And Casey realized she was being foolish. She didn't do anything wrong, and neither did Elliot. But she still felt a sense of apprehension at the thought of meeting Kathy today.

When she arrived at the doorway to Elliot's room, Casey's worse fears were confirmed when she saw Elliot, who sat up in his hospital bed, speaking with Kathy, who sat in a chair by the window. It was in this instant that Casey realized the root of her fear; it wasn't so much from guilt, but from the deeply imbedded fear that Elliot might leave Casey and get back together with his wife. Casey noted that—just before they took note of her arrival—Elliot and Kathy spoke in the hushed, casual tone of a couple that had been together for a very long time. And the hard look that Kathy gave Casey also didn't help matters, as well.

"Hey!" Elliot said to her with a wave.

Casey put on her best smile; trying to avoid the dagger-like stare that Kathy threw at her. "Hi, how are you feeling?"

"Much better," he told her. "I'm being released tomorrow."

"That's great."

After an uneasy pause, Maureen, Elliot's eldest daughter, strode into the room, shaking her head in weariness. "Mom, Dickie still wants something from the vending machine, and I'm all out of quarters."

"What?" Kathy said with a frown. "The food in the cafeteria isn't good enough for him?"

"Apparently not," Maureen replied. "Would anybody really mind if I slapped him silly?"

"Hey, watch it, kid!" Elliot said in jest. "There's an ADA present!"

In sharp contrast to her mother, when Maureen saw Casey, she burst into a warm smile. "Oh, no, I'm busted! Hi, Casey."

"Hey, Maureen, how are you?"

"Dealing with my little brother," Maureen said, "which means I'm extremely aggravated, as usual."

"C'mon, Maureen," Kathy said, as she got up from the chair with a heavy sigh. "I could use something to eat, anyway."

"See you later, daddy," Maureen said, as she left with her mother. "Take care, Casey."

"You too, Maureen," Casey said. And then, deciding to go out on a limb, she added, "Bye, Kathy."

Kathy abruptly left without saying another word, or so much as a glance over her shoulder at Casey. As if to make up for this, Maureen gave Casey one last little wave before she left the room.

'What a sweet kid,' Casey thought with a smile. Then her smile faded when she realized that Maureen was actually in her early twenties; no more than a few years younger she was.

"Something wrong?" Elliot asked.

She turned to face him and said, "I just realized that I'm only a fewyears older than the eldest daughter of the man I love."

Elliot rolled his yes skyward at that. "Oh yeah, thanks, Case. Now I feel _really_ old…"

Casey burst into laughter as she came over and patted his arm. "Sorry. Look, I can't stay long; I'm meeting with the judge in his chambers regarding the Beauchamp case. Norton has filed a motion to throw out the videotapes. Don't worry," she quickly added, "She hasn't a snowball's chance in hell. Besides, I know the judge, and he loves me."

"You got right back on the horse again, didn't you?" Elliot said with a satisfied grin.

"Yeah, Branch asked if I needed some more time off, but I really didn't want to sit out the Beauchamp case. I've had the pleasure of arraigning him this morning."

"Did you send him our love?"

Casey smiled. "Somebody was giving Beauchamp some love at Riker's. He showed up in court with a black eye. Norton was doing her best to raise holy hell about it. She claimed that her poor client was the victim of a brutal, oppressive police state, and so on."

"Jeez," Elliot said with a shake of his head. "Maybe you should have taken a few extra days off after all."

"No, I've tangled with Norton twice before. And I've beaten her both times. I'm looking forward to beating her again." Something occurred to Casey, and she grinned broadly. "You know, it just hit me: it wasn't so long ago that I was the one in the hospital bed and you came to see me. And now everything's been reversed. You're the one in bed this time."

Elliot smiled as he reached out and grasped Casey's hand. "I'm looking forward to the time when we can both be in bed together again."

"Me too," Casey said, as she smiled at that thought. But then her smile faded slightly when she thought of Kathy once more. Yet this didn't feel like the right time to bring up that sort of thing. "Well, I guess I'll get going. I'll call you later?"

But Elliot would not let go of her hand. "You all right?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah," she lied. "I'm ok."

"No you're not," he softly told her. "There's something bothering you, Casey. What is it?"

"You can always see right through me," Casey whispered as she glanced at the floor momentarily. She met his eyes again. "It's just that, seeing you with Kathy like this…I feel like…."

She shook her head at the frustration at not being able to find the right words. 'I'm so damned eloquent in court,' she bitterly thought, 'but when it comes to my personal life, I'm always tongue-tied.'

"I just need to know something, Elliot," she finally said. "Is there anything left between you and Kathy? Because if there is, if there's a chance of you getting back to together with her, then I don't want to be the one who comes between you two. I won't do that, all right?"

"I understand perfectly. And it is over," he solemnly told her. "It's been over long before you and I got together. You're not coming in-between anything, Casey." To emphasize his point, he kissed her hand. "I've moved on, and I'd like for you to be with me. And speaking of which." He reached over to the table and handed her a plastic bag. "Consider that my anniversary gift to you."

Casey stared at him. "Our anniversary?"

"Yeah, well, it's been over a full week since we first got together," he said with smile.

When Casey opened the bag, she burst into giggles when she saw a DVD of Dracula II: The Ascension inside. It was the movie she had been watching while she was in protective custody. She never got a chance to finish it. "You remembered!"

Elliot shrugged. "I recall you were pretty annoyed when you realized you never saw the end of that. So I asked Maureen to get a copy for me. Happy One Week Anniversary, Case."

"Happy One Week Anniversary. Thanks, El," Casey said, as they kissed passionately. "That's really sweet."

"Dickie, our resident family film critic, tells me that's only the first half of the story," Elliot told her. "Maureen couldn't find the other half yet."

"Oh, no, this is great," Casey said. She held up the DVD. "We've got something to do when you get out of here tomorrow."

"Among other things," Elliot said, now grinning broadly.

"Sounds like a plan," Casey said as she leaned over the bed and shared another passionate kiss with Elliot. She then paused and gave him a thoughtful look. "You know, Elliot, there's one more thing I need to know before this relationship goes any further."

"Name it."

"You don't have anybody else in your past with a grudge that I should know about, do you?" she jokingly asked.

Elliot's expression grew very solemn as he said, "Well, there's Mad Dog Meridian."

"Mad Dog Meridian?" Casey said uneasily.

"Yeah, he was also in the Marines with me. And I uh, accidentally shot off his hand during a training exercise," Elliot whispered. "He's been in a mental institution for the criminally insane ever since. He's being released for good behavior. And he's moving into my neighborhood. The doctors assure me that he'll behave himself, he won't fly into a psychotic rage…just so long as you don't mention the hook."

"The hook?" Casey asked, leaning forward. "What hook?"

"The hook they replaced his hand with," Elliot told her. "He's still kind of sensitive about it."

"Oh my God," Casey murmured, as she buried her face in her hands in disgust.

"Although they tell me that Mad Dog plays a great Captain Hook in the mental institute's annual production of Peter Pan," Elliot said, as he roared with laughter. "You should have seen your face for a split second there, Casey! Oh man, I can't wait to tell this to Liv!"

"You had me," Casey admitted, "right up until the hook for a hand part." She then glanced at her watch. "You're damned lucky that I've really got to get going! But this isn't over, El. I will get you back for that."

"You mean I'm not off the hook?" Elliot said, deadpan.

Casey let out a groan as she collected her things. "Jeez, you're really asking for it now, Stabler. I don't know how, but I will get back at you, soon." She blew him a kiss as she walked towards the door. "I'll talk to you later."

"Go and rip Beauchamp a new one for us," Elliot called after her.

"Interesting legal parlance, Detective Stabler," Casey replied with a smile. "I'll keep that tactic in mind."

**Epilogue II**

**John Munch. One Day Later.**

It was the end of a long day at the One Six. But for John Munch, there existed the rare possibility of a new beginning. He stood in the men's room staring at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. He didn't really know why he bothered to check himself, since he looked the same as always. He took off his shades, and seriously thought about leaving them off.

'I'm nervous,' he realized, as he put his glasses back on again. 'Mother of God, I am actually freaking out over this!'

It had been a normal day—at least as normal as it possibly could be for an SVU detective—until Munch heard from Cragen that Casey would be stopping by the squad room later. This was the first time Munch had seen her in several days; the last time he laid eyes on Casey was the rail yard, where she looked gorgeous even after having been put through the wringer and while wearing Elliot's jacket. Munch had been a little jealous of Elliot for turning out to be her knight in shining armor, but he couldn't really fault the guy. If it weren't for Elliot, they never would have found the rail yard in the first place. After facing the horrifying prospect of losing Casey, as well as Olivia, Munch was just grateful to Elliot for his Herculean efforts at finding them in the nick of time.

Munch wondered what he would say to Casey when he saw her. It had been so long since he asked a woman out that he felt pretty rusty. Then he realized that he was simply putting too much pressure on himself; Casey was a friend—true, Munch wanted their relationship to be much more than that, but it occurred to him that the best approach to this situation would be to simply walk up to her and ask if she'd like to go out for coffee.

'We'd be going out just like friends,' Munch thought with a nod of his head. 'And if, over the course of the evening, it should grow into something much more than friendship, then so much the better.'

With his plan of approach set, Munch steeled himself as he went back out to the squad room. He found Casey consulting with Cragen over some files. And he was surprised to see Elliot chatting with Olivia.

"Hey, look whom they finally let out," Munch said, as he clapped a hand on Elliot's shoulder in greeting.

"Yeah, I was released today," Elliot told him. "I'm just picking up my paycheck and some mail. I've still got the rest of the week off, so I'm taking it."

"Good idea. Have you heard about Lister? Or, I should say, Lister's body?"

"No, what happened?"

"It's still at the morgue," Munch said.

"After all this time?" Elliot asked.

"Nobody will claim it," Munch replied. "Certainly not the NSA. If they did, then they'd be admitting to the existence of the Spec-Op-For program. Do you know if Lister had any family?"

Elliot shook his head. "No, he was raised in orphanages all his life. And he was an only child."

"Warner told me that if nobody claims the body, then it'll be sent for burial on Hart Island," Olivia said.

"A pauper's grave," Elliot said, with a nod of contentment. "That's just what that bastard deserves."

Munch perked up when he saw Casey and Cragen were finished with their consultation. Just as Casey bid the Captain farewell and came over to the group, Munch braced himself, mentally reciting the obviously simple lines of asking her out for a cup of coffee in his head. Never had a plain question been so hard for him to ask.

"Yo, John," Fin said. He stood by his desk. "I gotta talk to you about something."

"Yeah, what is it?" Munch said absently.

"C'mon over here," Fin said with a wave of his hand. "It's personal, man."

Munch, who was eager to speak with Casey, very reluctantly went over to Fin. "What is it?" he asked, annoyed.

Fin glanced at the others, and then said in a whisper, "Why don't we go over by the windows for a little more privacy?"

"What is it with you?" Munch asked. "I'm the one who supposed to be paranoid, remember?"

Munch glanced back at Casey just then.

And got the shock of his life.

Casey walked up to Elliot, and whispered something to him that made Elliot laugh.

And then she very gently rubbed his stomach.

It was a very discreet gesture, and it lasted within the blink of an eye. But Munch had been a detective, a trained observer of human behavior, for far too long to realize that that gesture between Casey and Elliot was anything but an intimate one.

'I'm too late,' Munch thought, as his hopes sank within his chest. 'I'm too damned late…or maybe I never really had a chance to begin with….'

Fin leaned in close and whispered, "I'm sorry man."

"That's what you were going to tell me?" Munch asked.

Fin sheepishly nodded.

Munch affectionately grabbed him by the shoulder. "Thanks."

"For what?" Fin said. "I didn't do anything."

"You were still looking out for me," Munch told him. "I appreciate it."

Munch crossed the squad room to Cragen's office, where he informed the Captain that he was going home. Then he grabbed his coat and quickly bid everyone else good night.

He stood by the elevator, hoping it would come up quickly before Elliot and Casey left, so he wouldn't have to ride down with them. Fin came over, clad in his coat. He leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed and said, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Home," Munch replied with a heavy sigh. "I figure I'll watch a little History Channel before I cry myself to sleep."

Fin chuckled. "I don't think so, John. You and me are going out tonight, and we're gonna get stone-cold drunk."

Munch nodded. "Sad to say, that's the best offer I've had all week. Where are we going, Mulligan's?"

"Nah," Fin said with a shake of his head. "I've got another place in mind. It's a little off the beaten track, if you know what I mean."

"This evening you've got planned," Munch said, "it wouldn't include any debasing and debauchery, would it?"

"Depends on your definition of debasing and debauchery," Fin coolly replied.

"I'm intrigued," Munch said with a nod.

Just then the elevator doors opened, and Munch found himself staring into the smiling face of Alex Eames. She stood in the elevator holding a bunch of folders that threatened to slip out of her grasp at any moment.

"Oh, thanks," she said, as Munch and Fin quickly relieved her of the folders. "I was just on my way home, and with the Lister case now closed, I'd thought I'd stop by and bring these files back to you guys."

"I got 'em, I got 'em, don't worry," Fin said, as he grabbed all the files from both Eames and Munch's hands. "Let me take them off your hands."

As Fin eagerly ran down the hallway with the files, Munch stared after his partner with a puzzled look before he diverted his attention back to Eames.

"He's got a lot of energy for the end of the day," Eames remarked as she stepped out of the elevator. "Or is he just starting the night shift?"

"No, he's been working the day shift with me," Munch said. "We were just about to go out for a drink, in fact."

Eames appeared disconcerted. "Oh. I see."

"Something wrong?" Munch asked.

"No, well…actually, I was going to ask if you were busy tonight," Eames replied, a little shyly. "It's just that I've been aching to hear the details about your meeting with the Lone Gunmen. But since you already have plans…then never mind."

"You're more than welcome to join us," Munch offered.

"Oh no, I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense, it's no imposition."

"You sure?" Eames asked hopefully.

"Of course," Munch said. He glanced down the hall and wondered what was keeping Fin. Just before he was about to go and check, Fin appeared, without his jacket. Munch turned to Eames and said, "Would you excuse me for just a sec?"

"Sure," she said.

When Munch met Fin halfway down the hallway—out of Eames' earshot—he asked, "Where's your coat?"

"Uh, I'm gonna stay and put the files back," Fin told him. "You go ahead."

"What? Did Cragen order you to do that?"

"Yeah, he did." Fin slipped him a note written on a torn sheet of paper. "Remember the place I mentioned, the one that's off the beaten track? That's the address. Take Eames there. The two of you should really enjoy it."

Munch glared suspiciously at his partner. "Fin, what the hell are you doing?"

"What?" Fin said innocently. "I ain't doing nothing, man. Just because I got stuck with paperwork doesn't mean you have to suffer, too, right? Go on, John. Have a good time. Tell me all about it tomorrow."

Munch nodded. "Look, Eames is very nice."

"Oh, she is indeed," Fin agreed.

"But this isn't a date," Munch said. "Just so you know—and believe me, Fin, I know what you're trying to do here—but Eames and I, we're just a couple of off-duty cops going out for a drink, that's all."

"Of course, of course," Fin said, grinning. "Whatever, man. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya." Munch turned around and walked back to Eames, who stood pressing the elevator button. "Fin can't make it, so it'll be just the two of us."

"Just the two of us, huh?" Eames said with a nod. Then she burst into a broad smile. "Cool."

Munch found himself mesmerized by her smile. 'Alex,' he told himself. 'Her name is Alex. Stop calling her Eames!' As they stepped onto the elevator, Munch thought, 'And we're still just friends going out for a drink, that's it.'

Yet as Alex Eames shyly glanced up at him, and gave him another beguiling smile, Munch discovered that his fondness for this woman grew by the second.

'We're just friends, that's all,' Munch thought, as the elevator doors closed shut, 'but then again, if one thing should lead to another….'

**Epilogue III**

**Olivia Benson**

Olivia Benson smiled as she and Fin watched Munch and Eames as they boarded the elevator down the hall.

Fin grinned at her and said, "Do they make a great couple, or what?"

Olivia could not help but laugh. "Who'd ever think that you, of all people, would be a regular yenta, Fin?"

He stared at her blankly. "A what-a?"

"A yenta, a matchmaker," Olivia told him.

"Aw, no," Fin said sheepishly, as they both walked back into the squad room. "I'm just looking out for my boy Johnny Munch is all. Speaking of matchmaking, how's it going with you and Eric?"

"I'm seeing him tonight," Olivia said, being careful not to let her feelings of dread show. She stared at Elliot and Casey, who stood murmuring lovey-dovey comments to each other, as they got ready to leave. "Oh sweet Jesus guys," she said jokingly, "get a room, huh?"

"For your information, we're about to," Elliot shot back, as he got his jacket.

"Good night, Liv, Fin," Casey said, as she and Elliot walked out the squad room.

"'Night, Case, El."

"Wait, I'll ride down with you guys," Fin said. "Liv, you coming?"

Before she could answer, Cragen came out of his office just then with a slender package. "Oh, good, you're still here. This came for you, Olivia."

When he handed it to her, Olivia placed it down on her desk. It was a small manila envelope, sealed with clear tape. Her name and address were typewritten on a label. There was no return address. There wasn't even a postmark on the envelope.

She quickly glanced up at Fin and the others, who were still waiting on her answer, and said, "You guys go ahead. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you next week, Liv," Elliot told her. He paused and added, "You're seeing lover boy tonight, aren't you?"

"His name is Eric," Olivia said patiently. "And yes, I'm seeing him tonight."

Elliot gave her the thumbs up sign. "Good luck."

Olivia smiled at him. She didn't have the heart to tell them that she had already decided to break it off with Eric. That was actually the main reason she was seeing him tonight, to gently break the news to him. "Thanks."

After they left, Olivia intently regarded the envelope. "Cap, did this even come through the mail?" she asked.

Cragen shook his head as he stopped at the doorway to his office. "Apparently not. I think it was hand-delivered."

Intrigued, Olivia pulled out her pocketknife and slit the envelope open on one end. A folded-up note slid out onto the desk. She held her breath, not wanting to inhale anything nasty that might have been placed inside the envelope. Since the anthrax attacks, which struck the mail shortly after 9/11 Olivia was usually very wary of strange packages that were sent to her. Yet once she unfolded the note by prying it open with the tip of her knife, Olivia let out her breath in a sharp rush of air when she saw whom it was from.

She read the note, and then read it over again. Olivia then sat down at her desk and read the note slowly once more, losing all track of time until she noted that Cragen stood over her.

The captain, who wore his coat and hat, regarded her with concern. "Everything ok, Olivia?"

"Everything's fine, Cap," Olivia said, as she quickly scooped the note back into the envelope. Cragen hesitated, looking as if he were about to pry further. But instead he nodded and bid her goodnight. Olivia let out a sigh of relief. She was grateful that she didn't have to lie to Don Cragen; that man was the closest thing to a real father that she ever had in her life.

As much as she wanted to reread the note once more, a glance at her watch told Olivia that she was going to be late for her meeting with Eric if she did not get going right away. She got her personal things together, put her coat on, and left the One Six.

For once, she arrived at Eric's apartment on time. He lived on the third floor of a converted brownstone, and he was waiting for her in the hallway when Olivia stepped out of the elevator.

"Hey, babe," Eric said, giving her a hug.

"Hey," Olivia replied, feeling unsteady. She wasn't sure what was the best way to break the news to him.

When they broke their embrace, she was about to tell him right then and there, but Eric abruptly grabbed her hand and practically pulled her inside his apartment. She smelled the delicious aroma of pasta and Italian sauce cooking on the stove in the kitchen, and Olivia felt like an absolute troll for what she was about to do to this poor man.

Eric glanced at her foot with approval. "Your ankle looks like it healed up nicely."

"Yeah, I didn't break it after all," she replied. "I only sprained it."

He gazed solemnly at her, making Olivia wonder if Eric sensed she had bad news for him. "You doing ok otherwise?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. Thanks."

"I saw you on the news," he said. "Well, they talked about you and Casey. They showed an old photo of you. Your hair was darker, and a lot shorter. I thought they used the wrong picture until I saw it really was you. You looked so different, then. Your hair was really short, Liv."

Olivia absently ran her hand through her shoulder-length hair. 'Alex always did like my hair short,' she thought. Then Olivia shook her head. 'Oh Christ, what are you doing? Put an end to this, now.'

"Listen, Eric," she said softly. "I have to talk to you about something…."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know."

Olivia stared at him, stunned. "You know?"

"Yeah, I've been teasing you for the longest time about how I have something that I want to show you," he said. "And now that you're here, you just want to cut right to the chase, right? I can't say that I blame you. Come on."

The fact of the matter was, in light of the events that had occurred over the last week, Olivia had quite honestly forgotten all about the little surprise that Eric had wanted to show her. And as much as a part of her thought it was wrong to go through with it, Olivia still found herself far too curious to see just what the hell he was going to show her.

Eric led her through the house into his den, which contained an intimidating-looking computer set up in an area that was his primary workspace. Olivia gave him a strange look as she pointed at the computer. "Is this what you wanted to show me?"

"No," Eric said. He gestured at the wall that was directly behind her. It was covered with assorted plaques and various awards. When Olivia got a closer look, she saw they were all citations and commendations from the Pennsylvania State Police to Trooper David Anders. She then saw a photograph of a smiling PSP Trooper standing with a young boy—a boy who looked very much like Eric when he was a child.

Olivia glanced at Eric and asked, "Your dad?"

"Yes. He was with the Pennsylvania State Police. He retired last year. When I was a kid, he missed my eleventh birthday party. He was supposed to be off duty that day, but he wound up working overtime from the night before. I remembered I hated him so intensely! When he finally came home, I refused to talk to him for an entire day, until my mother took me aside and told me why he couldn't attend my birthday party."

Eric shook his head. "You know what my dad was doing? Just before his shift was about to end, he gets a report of a little boy who was reported lost in the woods. And so he and the other troopers from his barracks spent the entire night searching for him in the woods. It's not until well into the next day that they finally find the kid, alive and well. While I sulked at home, hating my dad's guts because he missed my birthday party, he was out saving somebody's life. I realized then how shallow I had acted, and I just felt horrible about it."

"You were just a kid, Eric," Olivia said with a shake of her head. "You shouldn't blame yourself for missing your dad."

"But I never realized the scope of the job that he did until that day," Eric said. "I vowed to myself that I would never act that selfish about it ever again. And so whenever you have to miss one of our dates because of your job, and I tell you that I understand…believe me, Olivia, I really do understand."

Olivia stood there, astonished. It struck her that, all along, she had been the one who did not understand. She had completely misread Eric. She thought he was a somewhat decent fellow who had always been so understandingbecause he was over-eager to start a relationship with her. And perhaps that was still the case, yet his understanding of the demands of her job ran far deeper than she originally had thought. He was truly a decent man, and would make a wonderful companion for a very lucky woman.

Some other woman.

Olivia still could not bring herself to love him, not like he wanted. Not only wasn't she not ready, but Olivia wasn't sure if she ever would be. She could not surrender her love of Alex so easily, so soon. Nor could she shake the brutal feeling of betraying a lover whom she been separated from against her will.

And so she told him. Olivia explained the situation as best she could to Eric.

He listened intently to every word she said. And when she was finished, he leaned back against the desk and thoughtfully stared at the floor.

"I'm so sorry," Olivia told him.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said. He glanced up at her. "You still love her very much don't you?"

"Yes. I swear to you, I really thought I was ready to move on. But when Alex recently came back…" She shook her head in despair. "Listen, maybe I should leave now."

"What?" Eric said. "And let all that pasta go to waste?"

She stared at him in bewilderment. "You still want me to stay?"

"You're a really special person, Liv," Eric said as he came over to her. "And I would love to still have you in my life. I realize you don't want a boyfriend. But would you like a friend instead?"

"Yeah." Tearing up, she gave him a hug in response. "Oh God, yeah. I'd really like that, Eric."

"You still up for dinner and a movie, Liv?" he asked her.

"Sure," she replied, wiping her eyes. "I'm starved."

They went out to the kitchen, where the pasta had been cooking all the while they had their discussion in the den. "It's a little soggy," Eric said, as he stirred it with a critical eye. "In fact it's very soggy."

"I like soggy pasta," Olivia said. She picked up a DVD that was on the kitchen counter. It was a movie called Lake Placid. "Is this what we're watching later?"

"Yeah, have you seen it?"

"No," Olivia said. She held up the DVD cover and asked, "Um, is this an alligator?"

"Yep, it's a big alligator movie. It's very good," he insisted, when Olivia made a face. "Trust me. It's very funny. It's got Bridget Fonda, and Bill Pullman, and that other actress—I forget her name, but she played Dr. Greene's girlfriend on ER. She's on that cop show now, Prince Street. You ever see it?"

"I don't watch cop shows," Olivia said with distain. "After working as a cop all day, the last thing I want to do is watch The Job on TV at night."

"What about a big alligator movie? Would you watch that?"

"Sure," Olivia said with a shrug. "First time for everything."

The rest of the evening went by very smoothly. At first Olivia wasn't sure if it had been a good idea for her to stay. Yet she was soon glad that she did. As they both sat and laughed their way through the movie, Olivia was grateful to still be with Eric, even as a friend. She cherished his company, now even more so. If her fearful encounter with the late Edward Lister had taught Olivia anything, it was that you must treasure every happy moment of life you have, for it can all be taken away from you in a blink of an eye.

Olivia was still in a reflective mood even after she left Eric's home. She had promised him that she would host the next movie night, with her selection of a movie. The problem was she would have to come up with dinner, as well. And Olivia never had been much of a cook. She wondered if Eric would accept take-out Chinese food as a proper dinner.

'Alex always loved Chinese food,' she thought wistfully. Olivia smiled when she recalled how Alex had complained about the lack of decent Chinese restaurants in Wisconsin when she returned to New York recently.

She wondered where the US Marshals had put Alex after she reentered the witness protection program. It wouldn't be Wisconsin again, that was for sure. Wherever Alex wound up this time, Olivia hoped she now had access to a decent Chinese place.

When Olivia came to a corner, she chose that moment to pull the letter from her jacket pocket. She opened it and read it once more under the illumination of a streetlight.

'_Saw you on the news,_' the letter read, '_and I'm extremely relieved to see that you're all right. I'm fine. I've been resettled, and doing as well as I can be. Give my best to Elliot, Casey and the others. And take care of yourself, Liv. Stay well and healthy. And remember that no matter where I am, no matter where I go, you are always in my thoughts. I hope to see you soon. Your Alex._'

"My Alex," Olivia whispered, as she held the letter close to her chest, to her heart. "I will wait for you."

Olivia smiled as she thought of George Huang, her friend and sometime shrink, who had advised her to move on with her love life. 'George probably wouldn't approve of my decision,' she thought. 'But I've never sought approval from anybody regarding how I live my life, and I'm not about to start now.'

Still smiling, Olivia tucked the letter back into her jacket pocket and strode down the street, towards her home.

**The End**


End file.
